Mesmerize
by LittleLamperouge
Summary: Previously called 'Once Upon A Dream'. In the end, all Genesis really wanted was a fairytale ending. That shouldn't be TOO difficult, right? Well...this is GENESIS we're talking about. Rated for dark themes and yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey everyone! First FF7 fic an I am feeling nervous. This is a Genesis x Angeal fic - or will be for the most part (there may be other pairings later on). Hence, future yaoi warning now - don't say I didn't warn you...this fic starts off with Angeal and Genesis in Banora. I dunno how old they're meant to be when they first met, but in this fic: Genesis is 11 and Angeal is 10. No, they have not met yet. No, they are not even friends yet. Yep, that does mean this will be the start of a pretty long fic...^_^ but enough rambling. Rated for child abuse and just general dark themes. Rating will almost definitely change later on. As will the title, probably. **

**Thank you so so much to my beta, Cookiecat - who I SERIOUSLY could not have done this without. **

**I own absolutely nothing - pity, that.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_It took Genesis less than a second to realise where he was._

_He didn't want to believe it was true, waking up to darkness yet again – already stripped, blindfolded and bound to a chair. He took a breath in trying to calm himself, when it hit him._

_It was the smell that turned the blood in his veins turn to ice – the familiar scent of hell, the final crushing blow of defeat._

_It was over. _

_He had lost._

_Again._

_Genesis screamed._

* * *

The house was strangely quiet that afternoon, not that he particularly cared or minded. But yet, he couldn't help but find the silence a little unnatural. Sure, the usual noise of the visiting politicians debating amongst themselves along the footsteps of their servants running past was a nuisance he could have gladly gone without – but it didn't seem right for it not to be there.

A frown pulled at the pre-teen's face, his gaze flicking away from the small black font of the book in his lap.

It was also rare for him to have the entire library to himself…

Perhaps something was wrong, or something important had happened he was unaware of.

That was possible. Unless the circumstances truly were extraordinary, like one of his parents died or the people of Banora attacking the estate, chances were he wouldn't be told about anything. Although… if the latter happened to be the case, there was a possibility that his parents would conveniently forget to tell him anyway. It wasn't impossible knowing them. No tears shed over their dead son's grave.

But admittedly, if the former happened to be true, Genesis couldn't see himself breaking down into a sobbing mess at the funeral either.

He wouldn't cry for them – crying implied that you cared about and would sorely miss the deceased person. And that certainly wasn't true. But then, _those_ feelings, Genesis was sure, were mutual.

Once upon a time, Genesis had cried over the realisation that his parents didn't care for him like other parents did for their children. He had seen them embrace, smile and laugh together and wondered why his parents never did that.

Love. That word had been mentioned a lot, too.

His frown deepened – he never had quite figured out exactly what that word meant. Apparently, according to Esther, an old maid who had taken quite a liking to her young master, love was a very powerful and potentially dangerous emotion. It was something you felt when you found someone you liked so much, all you wanted to do was to make them happy, because making that person happy, made you happy. He had spent sleepless nights pondering over this strange 'love' Esther had described.

If being happy was a good thing, then telling that person that was all you wanted was also a good thing too, right?

So one day, Genesis decided to test out this theory.

His father hated him, of that much he was certain. He barely acknowledged his presence, let alone talk to him. But his mother wasn't like that - she just ignored her son instead. And she was always upset. Genesis didn't like seeing his mother that way, it made him feel sad. Was this what love was? Maybe telling her he cared about her would make her happy? Later that day, Genesis found his mother in her bedroom, staring out of a window. He knew he shouldn't have been there – he wasn't allowed to go that room without permission.

But this 'love' was a good thing…

Surely he wouldn't get punished for that!

Genesis ran up to her and wrapped his skinny little arms around her legs. She made a funny noise and tried to turn around. Genesis buried his face in the back of his mother's jacket. It smelled nice, of something sweet yet light and flowery.

'I love you' he mumbled.

His mother stopped moving. There was nothing for a few seconds and then Genesis noticed she was trembling slightly. Was she cold? He looked at his mother. Her eyes and face were wet. Oh no, he had made her cry! She was upset! Was 'love' not a good thing after all?

'I'm sorry!' he had said, fear and horror evident in his voice as he clung to her tighter. He was sorry, he really was! He didn't mean to make her more upset.

Esther was wrong. Love wasn't a good thing after all. It was horrible! He'd make sure he'd never love anybody ever again!

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' He kept repeating to her, but she said nothing - if anything she cried more.

Scared, frightened and feeling incredibly guilty, a 6-year-old Genesis had let go of his mother and run out of the room. He was already crying by the time he made it back to his room.

Neither had said anything about that day since.

Although he never found out why she had started crying, he did find out that love, was supposed to be a good thing after all – the books in the library told him that.

Small books with bright colours and pictures filled with tales of beautiful women locked up or trapped in some way, awaiting the day a handsome prince in a silver outfit and a horse would come and rescue them. The prince would defeat the monster guarding the princess and they would fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. Genesis had spent a lot of time pondering which of the characters he would be in the story. Would he be the dragon or the handsome prince? Or was he the princess? No, princesses were girls – and he was a boy. And he was human. So he had to be the man in the silver outfit. That was his conclusion anyway.

But then the years went past and Genesis began to realise more and more that the world he lived in was different from the world in the books. Things weren't as easy in this world as they were in the fairytale world.

The prince in the fairytales never had to go to school and do homework. The prince in the fairytales never got punished for getting less than perfect in class. He was never sad, never upset. He was never forced to attend parties and social gatherings against his will. Never had he felt alone and lost in a crowd of people…

… and _never_ did the prince have nightmares.

And so it was that one day, some years later, Genesis concluded that he was not the handsome prince. He burned all the fairytales in the garden, angry and disgusted by the false hopes and dreams they had blinded him with.

He concluded that if he was anyone in the fairytale, he would be the dragon. Or the troll. Or the evil witch.

After everything that had happened to him in the 11 years he had been alive, he felt certainly ugly and disgusting enough to play that part.

Genesis's head drooped, a grim acceptance on his face.

Or maybe he just didn't acknowledge that there was a strong possibility of him being the princess locked in the tower.

* * *

The sun was considerably lower in the sky the next time Genesis had looked up from his book. Long shadows were splayed across the dark wooden floor, rectangles of orange spread out evenly where the light shone through the open windows. The whole room seemed to bathe in a soft warm glow. Genesis felt himself smile at that.

Outside really could be beautiful sometimes…

_Oh, stop your whining._

He abruptly cut off that trail of thought - refusing to enter the world of pipe dreams, a one-way trip to anguish, sorrow and regret.

Genesis was only allowed to go into the estate grounds and even that needed his parents' permission. As if that wasn't enough, someone _had to_ watch over him the entire time he was outside.

This was, according to those monitoring him, for his own safety.

Genesis refused to believe that was the case – but all his enquiries were met with silence.

Their house was separate from the rest of the town and despite the fact that his own father was Mayor of Banora, Genesis had only seen the town itself a handful of times and that was only when they were passing through to get to somewhere else. Genesis wished sometimes that he could go and see the town - it certainly would be a change of scenery. And also, he was curious. Not that he could help it, he had always been that way. His parents had never approved of that. One of the many things about him his parents hadn't approved of.

The sound of laughter and exclamations from outside begged the pre-teen's attention.

He could see it all from his view on the window seat. The group around the apple tree was quite a big one this time, at least 12 people, all about his age or younger. Most were gathered in a huddle around the wooden fence that marked the mansion's estate. About three of them had used the top of the fence as a stepping stone to climb the tree itself to get the fruit. But a couple stood back away from the crowd, just watching in silence. Genesis regarded the group with a hint of amusement and…envy?

He frowned slightly.

Well…he supposed it would be nice to be part of a big group of people like that.

A familiar wave of loneliness rippled painfully across his soul. Blue eyes slid shut and looked away as he gave a defeated sigh.

No matter how many times he pushed it away, it always came back. The overwhelming emptiness – like a black hole in his heart. Never in his life had he ever felt as if he had truly belonged - but then all he knew was this house, the one he shared with two people who thought him a nuisance. Was it any wonder he felt lonely?

_One day_, he thought as he looked back out at the group of people, _I'll know what it feels like to talk to someone my own age. _

_One day, I'll to find somewhere I belong. _

Even if that meant leaving Banora forever.

Genesis snorted.

_You really think he'll just let you go? You're barely allowed out of the house. You're not even allowed to go into your own town by yourself – there's no way he'll let you leave Banora alive_.

_Then I'd die trying_, Genesis thought courageously.

He found himself snickering cruelly, but the voice in his head slowly beginning to morph into something else.

_We both know that's not true. You're too weak, Genesis. You're nothing more than a spineless pathetic brat! No – worse! You're a spineless pathetic – _

"Genesis."

He curled up into a fetal position on the window seat, trembling arms wrapped tightly around his knees, eyes slammed shut just waiting for the final blow, the ultimate insult.

"_GENESIS." _

The voice was louder, more authoritative. That wasn't a request, it was an order. An order that sounded suspiciously like…

He didn't get time to finish that thought, as a loud thud sounded mere inches away from his face. Genesis gave a startled yelp as he jumped, not expecting the sound to be so close. He cried out in surprise and discomfort as a hand grabbed his wrist, the grip vice-like.

As their eyes met, Genesis felt the usual stab of fear and apprehension slice through him, an iron fist clutching his heart, struggling not to flinch or cry out at as the grip tightened. Disgust and contempt followed soon afterwards, bile rising in this throat, first at himself for letting himself be reduced this, then at the man in front of him – the man who had tortured and used him right from the beginning.

No, his father wasn't a man – he was a _monster._

His head snapped to the side, fire burning his left cheek, bright lights exploding in his vision. There was a sickening SMACK as his face collided with the wooden panelling, something white hot slicing through the side of his head. He gasped in pain and the world began tilting, felt his knees gave way as he sunk to the floor. A rough grip on the front of his shirt yanked him upwards onto his feet. Genesis blinked repeatedly, trying to see through the bright lights dotted across his vision, blocking out the high-pitched shriek in his ears.

"You dare look at me with contempt, _freak_?!"

The low venomous hiss reached his ears, as Genesis attempted to pull himself out of the semi-conscious he found himself in.

He felt his eye twitch at the insult, but no more. The words had never truly stopped hurting, but he had managed to build up a kind of immunity to them, the stinging pain reduced to no more than a dull ache.

There was no real point in fighting back, as Genesis knew with a sickening certainty than IT had already won long ago. He didn't know why he fought back anyway. Probably because he knew how utterly unfair and unjust it all was. That and also the fact that what remained of his pride refused to let him complete his transformation into an worthless, whimpering slave - the rest of his life enslaved to a creature that wouldn't know kindness if it popped out of a manhole and slapped him across the face.

Genesis snarled through the haze.

"Yeah I dare – what you gonna do?" he bit out, each word as cold and sharp as ice shards.

His face changed at that statement. Genesis didn't trust his sight at that moment, but he was sure it expressed a look of surprise and disbelief.

_Heh, he thought he'd broken me already. Fool. _

And then it changed into something truly…hideous. Never had he seen anyone's face contain that much disgust and fury before – it was actually quite frightening. A little voice told him to surrender, to apologise now and save himself from the extra punishment – but he wasn't listening. His tattered scrap of pride was still gorging itself on the mayor's previous reaction.

Genesis was aware of a smug grin appearing on his face but did nothing to stop it. Instead, his father did it for him. Without warning, Genesis suddenly found himself being held up by a sudden death-grip around his neck, legs flailing madly in the air. His face began to change colour, eyes bulging, vein throbbing in his forehead – his vision narrowing, darkness closing in…

Oh God, was he actually going to kill him this time?

Just before the darkness completely swallowed everything, he felt himself move before the crushing pressure on his neck suddenly vanished and he was flying…

BUMP.

…and had come back to earth with a bump. Luckily, his shoulder it seemed took most of the impact that time, he wasn't sure how much more his head could take today. For a few moments, the room was completely silent, save for the pre-teen's wheezing coughs, chokes and gasps as he sucked in lungfuls of air.

All the time being watched by a pair of expressionless grey eyes.

'Mr Castro tells me you fell asleep in class today.' He continued icily, but Genesis was too pre-occupied to notice the tone of the voice.

Yes, he had fallen asleep, more than once.

Genesis had had precious little sleep the night before, his sleep plagued by all-too real nightmares – nightmares his father himself was partially responsible for, his own sub-conscious obviously feeling he didn't suffer enough as it was.

Genesis's breathing had almost returned to normal when he became aware of footsteps retreating towards the door.'

"So don't expect any food tonight. You are to go to your room immediately. If you are not there when I come back…" he left the sentence hanging, but Genesis got the point.

The door closed with a firm CLICK.

Genesis didn't move, simply lying on the polished floorboards, his bruised cheek resting against the cold wood. Yes, it hurt – but he was used to the pain.

A choked sob left his mouth, sounding more like a dry cough than anything else. He was vaguely aware that his face was sticky and didn't feel the need to check what it was that made it that way – the deep ache on his head told him all he needed to know. Managing to bring his arms up, he prized himself off the floor, wincing as the drying blood on the floor pulled at his wound. Standing up, he took another couple of seconds to calm himself, aware of voices outside the door his guest had just left through.

A female voice said something, but it was too muffled to make out.

Another voice replied, male. Genesis didn't need three guesses to figure out who that was. He didn't hear all of what he said, but he understood enough.

"…he says he's not feeling very hungry tonight. I'll bring him up something later…"

Like hell he would.

Recognising the unpleasant metallic taste in his blood, he spat something sharp out into his hand, grimacing as he saw the pink-stained bone lying in the small pool of puddle. A tooth.

Genesis glared at the door, hoping somehow it would reach the bastard standing on the other side.

_When I leave this town, I'll make you pay for this._

And with that silent promise, Genesis walked off down the other end of the library – unaware of the steely blue eyes watching from outside.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey hey! I'm back! Sorry this took a while - both me and my beta have been very busy lately. But, I'm a lot clearer now on how this story will progress, so hopefully (fingers crossed) updates should be a bit quicker.**

**I'm actually _really_ pleased with the feedback from this so far. 4 AMAZING reviews - thank you SO MUCH to Cookiecat, xlightfromabovex and my two anonymous reviewers Artemis and yuzu! 7 alerts and nearly 100 hits...^_^ wow.**

**One quick note before we start this: there's an OC of mine in this chapter - my first OC in any story I've written - ever. Now, I know what you're probably thinking 'Noooooo! She's gonna wreck this story with some crappy Gary-Stu! Whyyyyyyyy?!?!?!' Or something along those lines anyway. Well, no. That's not going to happen, cos this guy isn't a Gary-Stu. I made sure of it. Well, Cookie did - but you get the point...=P**

**If I say anymore, I'll ruin the story - so I'm just going to shut up and let you read. **

**Muchos grazias go to my beta, Cookiecat (yes, I am thanking you again!)**

**Enjoy!**

**I own nothing. Except the storyline. And Scott.**

* * *

The sound of the car driving away was only slightly muffled by the window pane and partially closed curtains.

Genesis heard the noise but made no comment, the soft near inaudible sigh and a slight slump in his posture saying more than enough. The cool running water helped to calm him somewhat, to the point that he found himself feeling a little sleepy.

He flipped over the wet tissue pressed against his temple, the damp clammy heat uncomfortable against his skin. The disinfectant oozed out of the paper and into the wound, making him tense and clench his teeth together in agony. With a soft pained cry, he looked at the tissue, glaring at the red smear in disgust.

The tissue landed in the pedestal bin with a soft THUNK.

Genesis pressed his palms into the rounded edge of the tabletop, letting his head hang forward limply, blocking out the stinging, throbbing sensation created by the wound.

His eyes flickered shut, feeling oddly lethargic now. He swallowed, resenting the faint but lingering taste of blood, which refused to go away despite washing his mouth out several times.

Genesis had left for the en-suite bathroom shortly after his father's little 'heart-to-heart chat' and had wordlessly begun cataloguing his injuries – his automatic first reaction to the situation.

He needed to be sure that the injuries weren't horrific or noticeable enough to raise suspicion from any of the house staff - not that they ever paid attention to him anyway. But the last thing he needed was for someone to start asking the wrong questions. Genesis would take apathy over pity any day; especially pity from people who wouldn't even be in the same building as him were it not for the fact the salary was better than average.

The gash on his temple was the worst injury he had this time. He'd knocked his shoulder badly and that ached, but it was bearable. And he could still make out the redness of the skin around his wrist where that _man_ had held him in the death-like grip – but there wasn't a lot he could do about that. Genesis' arms and hands had always bruised easily; scars often taking much longer to heal there than anywhere else – the main reason why Genesis never wore anything with short sleeves, unless he had a jacket or a coat on and wore gloves whenever possible.

He took a deep breath in and straightened up, regaining his mask of indifference.

The preteen froze as he caught his reflection in a mirror over the sink. It looked something from an old fashioned war documentary – a gaunt face with a frighteningly pale complexion, far-too-hollow-to-be-healthy cheeks, thin almost colourless lips and piercing blue eyes that glinted with something… unnatural in a child so young.

Those eyes scared Genesis. The frenzied, borderline wild gleam in them terrified him. He feared how different they made him look.

How completely insane and psychotic.

And how _vulnerable_.

Genesis was frightened, but not because he looked so weak - it was the sensation of fear itself. He never knew it ran so deep, never realised it had become a part of who he really was. That fear was always with him, would always be with him, no matter how he tried to hide it.

Those eyes, that face, that room, that house – that entire life.

He _hated_ it – and he feared it.

Genesis hated everything _because_ he feared it.

Because ultimately, Genesis was scared…of being scared.

_The little princess was well and truly trapped in her tower, in every way possible…_

_She clenched the cold metal bars across her window in her fists, one thought ringing out clearly through the panic and desperation as she gazed at the world below._

"**_I_****_ need to get out of here."_**

* * *

That thought carried him through the next few minutes as he packed up the first aid kit, left the bathroom and headed down the main staircase, to the front door – where he suddenly froze.

The desperate cry for freedom vanished as the enormity of the upcoming decision suddenly came crashing down around him Not only had he disobeyed a direct order by leaving his room, a punishable act of defiance according to his father, but he was now considering…what?

Escape? To where? He had nowhere to go. No real family members outside this building, no friends… Genesis's whole world fit neatly inside these four walls.

It was all he knew, all he had ever known, barring the few social gatherings he had been dragged along to as a child – not that he was considering running off to some other politician's house.

A gloved hand recoiled slightly from the alluring gold of the door handle with the revelation that those gatherings were all he really knew of the outside world.

Great, sprawling mansions with twice as many bedrooms and bathrooms as there were occupants, and pretty, elaborate flower patterns in the gardens.

Fat old men smelling of soap bars and something unpleasant dressed in black suits two sizes too small for them, wrinkly nosed women in elegant dresses talking quietly amongst themselves and little children darting in between them, happy and smiling and carefree…

Genesis didn't belong to that world – a fact he knew with a sickening certainty.

But yet…surely he didn't belong to the world in this house either?

"You know, it really isn't as complicated as it looks."

A voice spoke up directly behind him, much closer than he had ever expected. Genesis whipped his head around in alarm, back slamming against the door, a terrible fear gripping his heart as he began to hyperventilate.

The speaker was in fact less than three paces away from him and Genesis cursed himself for not having heard the footsteps earlier.

He felt his initial fear turn to confusion however, after regarding the newcomer's appearance.

It was not his father, nor his mother or any of the other maids and servants he had seen around the house before. He, this new person, was a child. Albeit, a child a little older than himself, but not quite an adult yet.

The teenager was not dressed in any kind of uniform: a well-worn pair of jeans, the edges fraying at the bottom and a dark blue top with white and navy blue striped sleeves. His face was pale, though not nearly as pale as his own. It displayed a look of amused bewilderment and something else Genesis couldn't identify.

Quickly replacing his stoic mask, he gazed at the stranger with what he hoped was a politely curious expression. "Can I help you?" he asked, voice gratefully betraying nothing of the previous emotions.

The strange boy blinked, obviously not expecting the question. His mouth broke out into a wide smile as he chuckled softly – a genuine laugh Genesis noted, not one of his father's eerie little cackles. The smile remained plastered on his face, dark eyes glittering behind his dark red bangs. "I'm fine, thanks. Though I feel I should be asking you the same question."

It was the younger boy's turn to blink in surprise now. His eyebrows knitted together as a puzzled frown morphed onto his face. "I…don't understand."

The teenager shook his head in dismissal. "Well, you've been staring at that door handle for over a minute – figured you could use some help."

He smiled in amusement and Genesis scowled as he realised that this strange boy was laughing at him.

"I don't need your help. I'm fine by myself, thank you very much. Now was there something else you wanted?" The sentence itself was polite enough, but the cold bitter tone it was delivered in could easily melted the flesh off the other's bones – one of the few useful things he had learnt from his father.

Unfortunately, the effect seemed lost on the red-haired teen in front of him – though his face did seem less amused and more…understanding? Genesis blinked at the strange smile now on the older boy's face.

"I _was_ planning on going home, seeing as how my shift is now over and all, but I can't because you're blocking the doorway…"

The younger boy scowled and moved out of the way, even going as far as to open the door for the other, a clear sign that this conversation was now over as far as he was concerned.

"…unless of course, you were planning on going outside yourself…?"

Everything inside Genesis seemed to come to a standstill as he stood at this major crossroads in his life. This was it. He had to make a decision now.

The pre-teen looked outside. It was so close. But yet… Genesis found himself shaking his head slowly, eyes closed. "I'm not allowed outside unless I'm supervised."

The mayor's son was not aware of it, but the smile actually dropped off the others face, though if the decision surprised him he hid it well. He shrugged nonchantly.

"I'm going outside…" the teen mumbled, sounding suddenly unsure of himself.

Genesis looked up in surprise at the veiled offer – a second chance of salvation?

His mouth tightened, eyes narrowing at the ground. Something wasn't right here. Couldn't be right. This boy had no reason to be so generous. They had only just met.

He was up to something…he just didn't know what yet.

There was a quiet sigh. "Look –"

A sudden edge to the older boy's voice made Genesis instantly pay attention. Their eyes met, black boring into blue, all humour replaced by determination and something else so fierce Genesis felt momentarily scared.

"I'm not asking you to trust me because I know that's not going to happen – and it would be unfair on both of us seeing as this is the first time you've actually met me."

The words sounded like a statement, as though it was something so obvious it didn't need questioning. His voice came out lower and more serious than Genesis had ever heard it – the sudden transformation putting the younger boy on his guard.

"But consider this – if 'boss-man' somehow found out I took you outside without his permission - at the very least I'd get sacked, most likely not just from _this_ job either. Maybe he'd even go as far as to have me arrested for attempted kidnapping. I seriously doubt he'd ever let you leave the building again, supervised or not; and help or no help, Genesis, we both know you want to go outside."

The smaller boy's eyes widened in alarm, his mouth opened to say something, but the older boy cut him once again.

"I know you don't trust me, but for all I know, you could go and tell your father everything I've just said – and, with all due respect, I'm risking a lot more here than you are." The teen walked past Genesis and stood in the open doorway, turning back to face him.

The younger boy was at a complete loss for words, his mouth opening but closing again soon afterwards. He blinked at the now out-stretched hand and frowned.

It made sense, but…

"Don't think of it as a trust thing, see it as more of…a mutual agreement."

Genesis looked up at the figure glowing faintly in the sunlight and then back down at the welcoming hand. He reached forward, expecting to feel a sudden wave of doubt, but felt nothing more than a lingering anxiety.

The black gloved hand latched on to the wrist with a tentative grip and he looked up to find a sad little smile on the other's face.

* * *

The next couple of minutes went by in a surreal blur for the younger redhead. He could faintly recall standing outside while the strange boy closed the door behind him. The teen had looked nervous and Genesis briefly wondered if he looked similar. Almost at once, he'd been handed a baggy hooded jumper and told to put it on – his 'rescuer' making it obvious they were going nowhere until he had done so. The younger redhead had reluctantly agreed.

It was a little uncomfortable as the weather outside was quite warm and the material was thick, but he didn't complain. Once the two were around the corner, Genesis was met with a hillside view of a sprawling mass of buildings in all shapes and sizes.

The town of Banora.

A wonderful feeling had blossomed in his chest at the sight. He was finally going to see his hometown up close… Suddenly, he felt the other boy's hand grip his in a clumsy hold and pull him down into a side road.

As the town centre disappeared from sight, Genesis had experienced the first flicker of fear since he had left his house and wondered if this boy did in fact mean to kidnap him after all. He remembered he had started to fight back more against the grip, but the hand would not budge. There was a brief, stern order to put the hood up once they got into the more residential areas – and Genesis found himself complying, if only for the fact it was not best to anger the one person who knew where it was they were going.

When they at last came to a simple, terraced house in the middle of the street, Genesis was pushed inside, the door shut firmly behind him as the teenager looked through a hole in the door for a few seconds. Whatever he saw must have pleased him, because his mood returned to the one Genesis had seen when they had first met, even going so far as to ruffle the younger one's hair before disappearing into a room down the corridor.

The younger boy took that time to look over this new building the boy apparently lived in. It was nothing near the standard of his own house – infinitely smaller, much darker and more cluttered.

He was standing in what seemed to be the main room, the walls were a dull grey colour, parts of the wallpaper were bubbling and peeling off. The ceiling was textured and had dried damp stains on it. The only chairs in the room were covered with random papers, bills judging by one with 'FINAL DEMAND' stamped on in it in angry red letters.

There was a pack of playing cards, some of them were scattered around the room, clothes (Genesis didn't want to find out whether they were clean or not) draped over random pieces of furniture. He found himself being drawn to a photograph on a three legged wooden stool next to an expensive looking camera.

The picture appeared to be of two children, the older child was, he realised with a jolt, the one who had brought him here. The other one he had never seen before, but had brown hair and a serious expression on his face. The redhead had his arm around the younger boy and looked genuinely happy.

Genesis found himself smiling. He turned the picture over to find a small caption written clearly in blue ink. 'Scott + Jem Marsden.'

Directly underneath was a note written in handwriting different to the first one.

(R.I.P)

He frowned, a sharp ache piercing his chest. _So the younger boy died then…_

"Hey – in here!'

Genesis jolted at the exclamation, suddenly nervous and guilty for looking at something obviously private. He quickly replaced the picture in its previous position and proceeded towards the room the other had disappeared into.

This room was much brighter than the last, golden light spilling in through the curtains. The bed on the far side told him this was a bedroom, most likely Scot- the teenager's. He was currently half hidden in a plywood wardrobe to Genesis' left, the wood effect cover also bubbling and peeling in places.

Clothes were suddenly flung at Genesis and he only succeeded in catching a pair of shoes and a top, the trousers hitting him in the face.

"Strip." The sudden command caught Genesis off guard, but the effect was instantaneous. Scott froze at the soft bump and the half-stifled sob and looked up in concern at his guest. He stilled at the site.

Genesis was oblivious to this, clutching the clothes tighter to him, desperately yelling at himself to stop trembling like some pathetic wimp and to accept that this had always been a possibility.

_Mutual agreement. Ha! This guy just said it to ease his conscience a little. And you believed him! You're even dumber than I thought! _

"Hey…" Scott gulped loudly and took a step towards him, a deep intense pain in his eyes. Genesis took three steps back and bumped into the wall. "What's wrong?"

The sudden softness in the older redhead's voice seared through Genesis like a white-hot poker. He shook his head rapidly, trying to rid his mind of the caring words.

This was worse than anything he'd heard. At least none of them had ever tried to be _nice_ before…

"G-Genesis?"

"Stay the hell away from me." The words were dripping with venom, blue fire blazing under the auburn fringe.

Scott actually flinched away, suddenly turning angry then contemplative.

The silence was acidic. It ate away at Genesis in agonizingly small bites, the tension searing the skin off his flesh.

He gritted his teeth, wanting the other to do or say _something_ – anything!

And then just as it was about to burst, Scott gasped quietly, a noise trying to force itself out of his throat. "W-wh-what?! No! _No!_ That's _not_ what I meant!"

Genesis risked a glance at the taller boy, to find a look of horror, slowly fading as he put his head in his hands and groaned softly.

Scott sighed and went over to his guest, who staggered backwards, back hitting the wall again. He continued without comment or hesitation and took the clothes out of Genesis' hands and put them on a plastic chair a couple of feet away. The trousers, a pair of black jeans slithered off the top of the pile.

Scott sighed and returned to the other side of the room where he sat on the bed, which creaked under the weight, head bowed.

Genesis said nothing, only relaxing a tiny bit once the other had retreated. The sun shone on Scott's head, his hair glinting a wine red in the fading sunlight. The light shifted as the teen sighed deeply. Finally he shuffled back, back propped up against the wall, head lolled to one side. He took a few seconds before meeting the smouldering blue gaze boring into him from across the room.

Scott smiled once again – but it looked somehow…wrong this time.

"You may not realise this from all those years sitting your fancy tower over there," Genesis blinked at the 'tower' comment but said nothing. "But your old man isn't too popular with us common townspeople. In all honesty, most of us have _no idea_ how he managed to win the last election because everyone here hates him so much-' Scott's smile grew at Genesis' wry little smirk. "And I'm guessing by that face, he's not your hero either." The smirk shrank a bit, but the look he gave the speaker was no longer hostile, merely cautious.

"Everyone to do with that place isn't really welcome around here – except the servants and cooks, like myself, but that's because we came from here originally – we're one of them. The work is easy enough and the salary is great compared to what you normally expect to earn around here, but the fact that your salary is being paid for by all these new taxes he's bringing in…it's almost like we're stealing from everyone else – that's never too popular – but hey, it pays for the food on the table." Genesis frowned but still said nothing.

"We don't actually know an awful lot about the family either, seeing as how _he_ never leaves the place unless he's passing through to get to somewhere else. The missus seems OK enough, no-one's got any problems against her…you're a bit of a myth actually, truth be told."

Genesis looked up at that, genuinely surprised. "How do you mean?"

Scott bit his lip as if debating something, but continued anyway. "Your father's done a very good job of keeping your existence a secret – only us who work in the house know anything about you; and even that isn't very much. Everyone who works there has to sign some contract when they start, saying that anything they see there stays a secret - or they get fired. Not a good thing when the salary's the only thing keeping you going nowadays. Sometimes the children see you now and again, either through the windows or when you're outside. Most of the younger ones think you're a ghost of some kid who died in the house ages ago, or that you're some nephew or distant relation that comes to visit at random times." Genesis smiled at that.

"But – the reason for the clothes is simple - if you want to blend in, you have to look like one of us. Aristocrats aren't particularly welcome around here." Scott got up and left as Genesis contemplated what he had said.

"When you're changed, go to the front room and we'll head off." Scott called down the corridor.

Genesis didn't move for a few seconds, a pang of guilt making him feel slightly sick. The anguish on Scott's face had seemed real enough – no way to be certain of course, but he seemed like a nice enough person. And he felt bad about his father – knowing that most things he owned were paid for by the townpeople's money wasn't a good feeling. It was oddly comforting though, being surrounded by people who hated the mayor as much as he did – even if it was for different reasons…

The preteen eyed the clothes on the chair, before getting up and closing the bedroom door quietly so he could change.

* * *

There was no mirror, so Genesis had only his own perspective to go on – but the clothes seemed to fit him pretty well. The only down side was that the t-shirt was short sleeved, giving anyone looking a good view of the various cuts and bruises going up his arms. He made a mental note to ask Scott for a jacket.

The trousers were OK too, not something he would wear personally, but pretty good

given the circumstances.

He opened the door quietly and peered down the corridor. Scott was sat on a beaten up sofa looking at the picture of him and 'Jem' when they were younger. Genesis couldn't see his face, as he was looking at Scott's back, but he knew that the older boy hadn't heard him yet.

'Yet' being the crucial word, as Scott suddenly spun around and saw Genesis standing in the doorway. He looked partially stunned, before a smile melted onto his face.

"Hey. Those clothes suit you, you know?"

Genesis gave Scott a look the other couldn't quite decipher – though it wasn't something Scott was expecting to see from a compliment. The face was gone as quickly as it had arrived. "Do you have a jacket or something I could borrow?"

"Yeah, you can use the jumper you wore before, if you want."

Genesis nodded, then hesitated. The jumper was hanging off the edge of the sofa – in the front room. Meaning, he would have to risk Scott seeing all the cuts and bruises on his arms.

Well, if he didn't make a big deal out of it – there was chance Scott might not notice…

He walked over to the jumper and pulled it on, aware of Scott watching him as he came down the corridor. Once his head was through the hole in the top, he looked to Scott, expecting to see horror, concern or disgust on his face.

Nothing.

Genesis nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

That day had been like any other in the small town of Banora.

The sun rose, the people got up, went to school, went to work and came home as the sun set. At the time, the sun was still setting; the light a dark golden, orange colour, drenching the landscape in liquid gold.

From a side street tucked away towards the outskirts, two boys emerged into the light. The two figures smiled at the glorious sight of the town at sundown, the eyes of the smaller child gleaming brightly under the dark red hood of the jumper he was wearing.

The taller figure, clad entirely in navy blue and white stepped forward and gestured to the town.

"Genesis Rhapsodos," he proclaimed, looking back at the starry-eyed boy behind him. "Welcome to Banora."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3a

**A/N: Hey hey - I'm baaaaaaaaack! And a lot sooner than I thought I would be too. All this homework - stupid GCSES. Ugh -_-. **

**But anyways, here we are - again. **

**Thank you so much to everyone whose reviewing/alerting this story etc. **

**Extra thanks that letyoursoultakeflight - who not only reviewed both chapters for ths story at once, but also reviewed another of my stories written in a completely different fandom! Muchos grazias ^_^!**

**Right. The chapter. Basically - I've decided to split this chapter up into 3 parts, because the thing would just be SO DAMN LONG - and therefore the update would take ages. So yeah. What can I say, really long bits of writing intimidate me, hence I am slightly worried about this story...but anyway.**

**I have a feeling there was something else I wanted to say, but it's completely left my mind now...**

**Thanks go to Cookiecat (once again) - stop getting embarrassed, you deserve it XD!**

**I own nothing, other than this ever so slightly demented plotline. And Scott.**

**Enjoy.**

**-M.M-**

_The little princess felt the stranger's hand slip into hers, the grip not tight or restraining. _

_Chain-mail armour chinking noisily, he led her away from the enchanted forest behind them, away from the warped trees with their gnarled branches and their ghastly silhouettes, further into the light._

_Instinctively she felt her gaze being drawn behind her, back at the sinister, malevolent tower that she had called home; staring coldly at her retreating figure, dressed to match the background - all black and murky grey._

_She caught herself just in time however and tore herself away from the ominous looking structure._

Just this once_, she thought._

Just this once, I'm going to pretend I'm someone else.

**This time - I'm going to start over again.**

_The armoured knight looked back down at the little princess. _

_She couldn't see his face as the visor was still raised – but she sensed his worry and concern._

_Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she smiled up at her mysterious saviour._

_The knight flinched at the rapture and joy displayed on her face._

_He relaxed momentarily, his thick-gloved hand squeezing hers gently, shortly before looking away._

_The princess couldn't be certain, but she was sure that behind that metal mask the brave knight was smiling. _

* * *

It was inevitable that they would end up in a bookshop.

As big as his father's mansion was, it wasn't exactly child-friendly.

There were a very limited number of activities Genesis could do to keep the boredom away.

Hence, he ended up spending most of his time in the library, making his way through the various sections one by one.

Naturally of course, most of the books there weren't child friendly either.

But then, that was partly his own fault – he had destroyed all his own books, burning them in the back garden in a sudden rush of anger.

Nevertheless, Genesis found himself becoming more and more familiar with the once intimidating words the authors seemed intent on using.

It was all quite fascinating really – once you were able to decipher just what it was they were trying to say.

That took time – but that was one thing Genesis had ample of.

Well, on any day except this one.

With a quiet sigh, he shut the book he was reading.

A week had passed since Genesis' first trip to Banora – and the boy was certain that those seven days were the longest he had experienced in his life.

Scott had escorted Genesis back to the house shortly after sundown.

The younger boy was not too happy about that arrangement, but agreed after the older pointed out that he was the only who knew his way around the town.

Genesis would never admit it, but he was secretly glad of the company and enjoyed listening to teen talk about things in general.

The preteen himself had never been a great talker, more of a listener – but then he had never really had many people to talk to, even on the rare occasions he did have something to say.

They both seemed to have come to a silent agreement that neither would pressure the other into talking about themselves in great detail.

Genesis was infinitely grateful for that – he wasn't sure how convincingly he could lie to the teen without looking suspicious.

The fact that the teen didn't want to talk about his past though surprised him a little. Other than perhaps 'Jem', Genesis wasn't under the impression that Scott had anything major to hide.

Or maybe the teen had deemed himself too uninteresting to talk about.

Either way, Genesis kept his thoughts to himself – Scott had the courtesy to leave him alone, so the preteen would do the same.

The two had left the estate a few hours ago, not long after the mayor and his wife had departed once again to some unknown destination.

Not that Genesis particularly cared where they were going.

He shifted on the window seat, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

Genesis felt something cold and smooth slide against his leg and instinctively reached for his pocket.

His breath hitched in his throat and he cautiously slid his hand into the pocket, as if afraid whatever was in there might bite him at any moment.

His fingertips met cold metal and Genesis suddenly remembered what it was.

* * *

An hour before…

_'Rush hour' in Banora would most likely not be considered rush hour in busier, more populated areas._

_The streets were hardly what one would call packed, though there was a constant stream of people progressing down this, what Genesis assumed to be the main road – one of the few things about the town he remembered._

_Every now and again, people greeted Scott, but thankfully almost no-one deemed it necessary to enquire after the strange little boy accompanying him._

_The few people that did ask were told that he was a relative of Scott's._

_The teen was a surprisingly good liar, Genesis concluded after the fourth introduction. So good in fact, he almost found himself beginning to believe they truly _were _related._

_ "…This little guy? He's my little brother, Jem. He's come to stay over for a week…"_

_Genesis stared at Scott. The older boy had never given him a name before…_

_"Why haven't you seen him before? Well, he's a quiet guy, hasn't left the house the whole week. But he's leaving tomorrow morning, so I dragged him outside – thought I'd show him around at least once before he goes…"_

_Scott glanced down at Genesis, a bright smile on his face._

_"…besides, I think the fresh air'd do him good."_

_Genesis blinked._

_Scott's face revealed nothing._

_The older boy looked back up at his acquaintance and smiled politely._

_No flinching, no extra blinking, no increased heartrate._

_He'd looked that person straight in the eyes and lied to them…_

_There were very few people Genesis knew with the ability to do that; and all of them were powerful, influential politicians - disgusting, heartless excuses of people with no apparent conscience whatsoever._

_The world of politics was, if nothing else, all about appearances._

_He didn't know why, but for some reason Genesis began to feel uncomfortable about the teen smiling at him as though everything was OK._

_The preteen couldn't shake off the eerie familiarity between Scott, his supposed rescuer, and those men - the ones that so often featured in his own nightmares…_

_But surely there was no way _Scott_ could be a part of that world…?_

_He wanted to believe that was true, but Genesis had no way of knowing for sure._

_He _could_ ask Scott about it...but who was to say that the answer wouldn't be a lie as well?_

_Genesis suddenly found himself feeling a little…_scared.

_Scott looked back down at him again, after his acquaintance had left them, the perfect smile wavering for the first time since they had left his house._

_"I had to tell them something, it's not like I can say who you really are…"_

_He trailed off and looked away, suddenly guilty and…sad._

_Genesis frowned softly. _

_It made sense – of course it did. _

_Everything Scott seemed to do somehow seemed to make sense once he'd explained it. _

_But…_

_That was just it, he was using all these excuses to _justify_ his actions…_

…he's hiding something.

_"Scott…"_

_The teen looked down, dark eyes flashing briefly as he gave the younger boy a tight lipped smile._

_"…yeah?"_

_Genesis bit his lip, unsure of how to approach this._

_"Does anyone live with you – in that house?"_

_"My uncle and my cousin. My uncle works as the local blacksmith, his son helps along sometimes. I have a job there too – part time of course, but I'm doing my apprenticeship now – so that when I finish, I can leave."_

_Genesis stared at him._

_He sounded so…pleased at the prospect of moving away._

He wants to go – but then…

_"If you want to leave so badly, why are you here?"_

_The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them._

_Genesis looked away ashamed; it was none of his business, he had no right to ask._

_"I'm sorry." he said quickly._

_He didn't want Scott to be angry with him. The teenager was the only person in _so long_ that actually seemed to hold something other than negative feelings towards him._

_Genesis didn't want that to go away…_

_But the final blow never came._

_He looked up, to find the other boy gazing at the ground with such _unbearable_ sorrow and pain in his face…_

_ "- some things…are worth sacrificing everything for."_

_

* * *

_

The scenes in Genesis' head skipped forward to what happened a few minutes later, shortly after they arrived at the bookshop.

* * *

_The bell above the shop door jingled as younger boy pushed the door open and stepped inside._

_It smelt of old paper and damp wood – Genesis found it oddly comforting. _

_He allowed his gaze to trail across the floor to ceiling bookcases, all packed closely together in tight formation. _

_The wood was twisted and lumpy, perhaps the shelves themselves were antiques._

_Cardboard signs dangling from the ceiling told him of all the various genres of books he could find here._

_'Non ficksion'_

_'Bestcellars'_

_'Horor storys'_

_'Chilldren's books'_

_So many books he had never read or even heard of before…_

_It was wonderful!_

_He turned around to tell Scott when he realised the older boy was not with him anymore._

_Looking back at the entrance, he could see that Scott was still standing in the doorway, looking in the other direction._

_Genesis could see his lips moving and realised that he was talking to someone._

_Scott did not look happy._

_The preteen frowned and tried to move around the bookcases so that he could see the one his companion was talking to._

_Scott sighed loudly and ran a hand over his face, muttering something._

_Genesis looked through the window in time to see a small child running off down the street. _

_His frown deepened. _

_What had the child said that had made Scott so unhappy?_

_The teen looked up suddenly, casting his gaze around the shop. _

_Genesis looked quickly and focused on looking for a book in the case in front of him._

_Not in the mood for anything too heavy, he picked out a thin, leather-bound book and read the title silently._

_'LOVELESS.'_

_"Hey..."_

_Genesis looked up and forced a smile as the teen greeted him._

_Scott scratched the back of his head, eyes squinting as though wincing._

_The expression looked unnatural on his face._

_"Look, um…I'm gonna have to go for a little bit."_

_Scott continued in a flustered tone as Genesis began to frown._

_"I'll be back – don't worry! I just…have to go help my uncle for a little bit." He admitted with an odd little smile._

_Genesis blinked, a small but genuine smile morphing onto his face._

_He nodded in agreement._

_"I'm so sorry about this – I thought I'd have today off to take you out and all…"_

_"I guess…you could come with me, if you wanted…"_

_"I'm OK, thanks. I'll wait here."_

_Dark red eyebrows knitted together as Scott regarded the boy before him._

_He sighed in exasperation._

_"Alright - but_ PROMISE_ me, you _won't_ leave this building until I come back for you, OK?"_

_The strange desperate flash in Scott's eyes had returned and Genesis felt himself tense._

_Scott was being deadly serious about this. _

_But why?_

_Why wasn't he allowed to leave?_

_Scott twitched, suddenly very reluctant to leave the younger boy._

_He pulled him over to a space in between two bookcases, away from the sight of everyone currently in the shop._

_The teen bent down and reached up the bottom of his own trouser leg._

_Genesis caught a flash of a black strap and something metal sliding out._

_His blood turned to ice in his veins._

_Scott looked back at him, a grimace of pain portrayed on his face._

_He held out the metal object to Genesis, who stumbled back automatically._

_Scott's arm shot out and grabbed the other boy's wrist, pressing the object into his open hand and closing the fingers around it._

_"Take this. Don't let _anyone_ see you. _NO-ONE_. Understand?"_

_The fierce desperation flooded over his eyes into his voice and Genesis felt fear rising up within him – but it wasn't for himself._

_What was the hell was going on?_

_Genesis nodded at Scott._

_The teen took a breath in, the fear in his eyes retreating somewhat, though he still looked unnaturally worried._

About me? No, that can't be possible…

_Genesis opened his mouth to talk, but Scott was already halfway out the door, giving Genesis one last look before disappearing into the street._

_The young redhead gazed blankly at the doorway, suddenly fearful for the other's safety. _

But he had given him something_, Genesis mused looking down at the metal in his hand._

Surely that meant he would come back?

_Genesis pressed a single metal button on the object and gasped as something swung out the side of it._

_A blade. _

_He looked at it in shock and horror._

_Scott had given him a_ pocket knife_._

_

* * *

_

Genesis sighed, unsure of what to think.

Scott Marsden – who exactly was he?

What had happened to make him so paranoid? Why did he suddenly care about Genesis so much?

And where did 'Jem' come into all of this?

The sound of footsteps brought Genesis out of his musings, hand tightening on the small weapon hidden in his pocket.

A kind looking elderly man peered around the corner at him, but Genesis was still anxious.

He knew that first appearances could be deceptive – and today's events had only confirmed that fact.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to leave now – I'm closing up the shop."

* * *


	4. Chapter 3b

**A/N: Heya, I'm back once again. And only a couple of weeks after the last chapter - that's damn fast updating for me, it normally takes me MONTHS to update. Truth is, I'm scared if I stop, I'll lose momentum and then this'll NEVER get finished. Which is bad, cos we've got a LOOOOOOONG way to go. Thank to everyone thats reviewed/alerted/read what's written so far. 10 reviews for only 3 chapters? Wow ^_^ cheers everyone! Here's the chapter you've been waiting for - here's ANGEEEEEEEEAL! Sorry, couldn't resist XP**

**Once again, I get the feeling I've forgotten to say something...oh well. I'm SO tired, I'm not thinking straight.**

**Thanks go to Cookiecat, (once again) for all her editing and the time she's taken out of her busy new schedule to help little old me...**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Ain't it a crying shame...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Their laughter rang out clearly from that height, a happy contagious sound that succeeded in making even him chuckle, though he wasn't sure what at.

Perhaps the fact that today had been a relatively peaceful day helped lighten his mood.

The twelve of them were currently sat on top of the local public house, one of the few buildings in that quarter that had a tiled roof.

That particular part of town was known as 'The Great Maze' – simply because of the fact the roads were all so narrow and cramped, the buildings were tall, dark and ominous looking when hidden in the shade, though most of the buildings looked exactly the same anyway.

It was on the north-eastern side of the town, assuming the mayor's house was classified as 'north'.

His own house wasn't in this area – he lived in the south-western part of Banora - a poor, but quiet section of the town.

Everyone knew everyone in that area, as the community was small.

All of the children he was with at the moment lived either on his road or on the surrounding ones and had all been friends for as long as he could remember; his mother had always said her son had a good memory – something he'd apparently inherited from his father.

"Hey, Angeal,"

He glanced over at the speaker, a scrawny boy a couple of years younger than him who lived two doors down.

The boy's name was Lindon.

Angeal caught the fruit thrown to him and inspected the apple briefly.

The group had returned from their latest conquest to the mayor's house a short while ago, feeling like triumphant heroes.

In all honesty, Angeal didn't see what all the fuss was about.

It was only an apple tree after all – you could find one standing at any street corner in the city.

A couple of the others had said that the apples from the tree of the Rhapsodos' estate tasted the best – something Angeal highly doubted, though he never told the others that. It gave them something to aim for, he supposed.

He couldn't say he entirely agreed with it though.

The tree itself was after all on Mayor Rhapsodos' estate, his own personal property – therefore they were trespassing, _stealing._

Angeal would willingly keep a watch out for them if they wanted to climb the tree themselves – but no more.

A couple of the older boys had resented him for that, saying that the family had too much anyway and that it was only fair that they took back some small payment in compensation for all the extra money the mayor took in taxes.

Angeal had replied that stealing from him and his family made them no better than them – just dragged themselves down to the mayor's level.

No-one had a retort for that – though a few of his friends had stopped talking to him for a short while afterwards.

He sighed softly.

It wasn't that he agreed with what the mayor and his followers were doing, he despised them as much as any of the others, more so perhaps – but openly displaying the hatred would only pour salt on the wound.

It wouldn't help anybody or change anything – other than perhaps make the upper classes hate the common townspeople even more.

And that could be all the excuse they needed to enforce even harsher rules…

Angeal had attempted to explain this to the others.

They hadn't understood.

Angeal glanced back at Lindon and smiled warmly throwing the apple back, shaking his head.

He wasn't particularly hungry.

The small boy smirked knowingly and began eating the apple himself.

Instead, Angeal's thoughts drifted back to the same topic he had been silently debating on ever since they began their return trip to Banora.

The child in the window.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of it all – which was perhaps part of the reason he'd spent so long thinking about it.

Angeal was now satisfied however, that his earlier suspicions had now been confirmed.

The child was not a ghost or an apparition.

That boy (or maybe it was a girl?) was as real as he was.

The only question now was – who were they?

In the years to come, Angeal Hewley would find himself looking back at this moment. He would remember the soft heat of the mid evening breeze, the alluring crimson of the sky as the sun melted inside the landscape – the colour an exact match of the jumper the hooded figure wore as they walked quickly down the street below him.

_Too_ quickly.

"Heh, he's back."

Angeal looked back at Lindon, now sitting next to him, the speaker's eyes trailing after the hooded individual. The black-haired child found himself doing the same thing.

"What do you mean?"

"That guy's been walking around in circles for the past 20 minutes - must have passed this way 5 times by now…"

Angeal frowned at this strange person.

They were not tall, he mused. In fact, from street level, they could have been the same height and him and his friends…

_A child?_

The frown deepened.

Banora was a small town, but that didn't mean it was safe at night. It was just like any other place in that respect – barely anyone went outside after sundown unsupervised unless they were up to something, or could take care of themselves.

Either one could be the case for this individual, but Angeal for some reason found himself disagreeing.

Anyone not wanting to be seen would go to their destination as quickly as possible, not willing to risk be spotted or recognised.

And there was something painfully _vulnerable _about this person.

The way they kept looking over their shoulder every few seconds as if expecting to see someone following them. Their posture was far too tense to be natural.

Something just didn't add up.

Yet – that didn't make this any of his business.

If this person was so paranoid, surely trying to talk to them would only make things worse…?

Wouldn't it?

Angeal's companion watched as his friend got up suddenly and proceeded to the edge of the roof, sliding down the drainage pipe to the ground.

A couple of other children made their way over, confused as to what was going on.

"Where's he going?" one asked puzzled.

Lindon smiled weakly, watching as Angeal began jogging down the street after the stranger.

"He's gone to play 'Angeal the superhero, defender of the weak'."

* * *

Genesis was seriously miffed.

He was scared too, but he refused to acknowledge that.

The bookshop had closed a while ago, shortly after Genesis had purchased the book he was reading.

Scott, despite his apparent worry and concern for the younger's welfare, had not returned – something which made the preteen annoyed, anger mixed in with the odd, slightly unexpected sense of betrayal.

Genesis had pushed that feeling aside as best he could and focused on the task in hand.

Finding his way out of this labyrinth.

But that was proving even harder than he had expected it to be.

All the buildings looked _exactly_ the same – and he didn't know whether that was because they had been designed that way, or whether he had in fact just been going around and around in circles.

A wave of hopelessness swept over him and for the briefest of moments, Genesis felt like falling to the floor and crying in the vain hope that when he looked up something would have changed.

But then that moment passed; the feeling replaced by an irrational, blinding anger that consumed every rational thought in his head.

With a feral growl, he turned and punched a wooden cart beside him.

There was a horrible cracking noise and pain stabbed his knuckles with a ferocity that made Genesis cry out and double over in agony.

Tears sprang to his eyes and he tried to shove them back, but it hurt _too much_.

They spilled silently down his cheeks, paying no heed to the redhead's attempts to stop them.

He was kneeling on the floor besides a cart in a town he knew NOTHING about – crying in public like a pathetic little sissy.

Ugh.

_This can't possibly get any worse._

Soft padded footsteps came up behind him and he froze.

Great, now he had an _audience._

A hand landed lightly on his shoulder and Genesis freaked.

His gloved hand shot out, crushing the newcomer's wrist with a vice-like hand. He grabbed a fistful of shirt in his other grip – gaze finally focussing on his 'spectator', their faces suddenly very close.

Two pairs of blue eyes connected.

Pain-filled electric blue glared furiously into wide-eyed steely blue.

A flicker of something passed through the second pair before they slowly returned to normal.

The brighter pair went blank, with shock or surprise the younger boy couldn't tell.

Genesis growled softly and shoved the other boy away.

He then picked up his book and walked away, not bothered to help Angeal to his feet.

The dark-haired child didn't move for a few seconds.

That was, without a doubt, the strangest greeting he'd ever received.

* * *

Genesis charged off down the street and rounded the corner, waiting until he was safely out of the sight of the strange boy before he stopped, book falling limply from his injured hand.

He flexed the hand experimentally and hissed sharply, clenching his teeth together, slowly beginning to pull the glove off.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he let go of the breath he'd been holding as he regarded his exposed hand.

His knuckles were a bloody mess – quite literally.

Genesis found himself grimacing down at the blood and torn skin in disgust.

It was going to be fun explaining _this_ to his father…

_Where the hell was Scott when he needed him?!_

"You should probably get that looked at."

Genesis scowled and curled up defensively against the wall, resembling a caged, wounded animal - shooting thunderous glares at the intruder.

He clutched his bloody hand to him tightly.

It was the kid from around the corner.

Instantly, Genesis turned his gaze to the floor, letting the hood hide in face in darkness.

He didn't want this stranger to see him in pain.

"Why do you care?" he seethed, anger, pain and misery all mushed into one statement.

There was a long pause.

"I'm…not entirely sure."

Well, that wasn't the answer he was expecting.

Genesis found himself wordless once again, something that only fuelled his smouldering anger.

"Then why don't you _go away? Leave me alone_."

The acidic tone had little effect on the boy, other than make his face grow ever more serious. But Genesis recognised that stubborn gleam in those eyes.

Getting rid of this person wouldn't be easy.

"I can't do that."

"_Why the hell not?!"_

Genesis was seriously pissed now.

Did this guy not get the hint? He wanted to be left alone!

"Because you need help."

Everything seemed to stand still.

Genesis took in a shocked gasp, anger rising, rising – and overflowing.

But he didn't scream, shout, hit anything or anyone.

Instead – Genesis laughed.

It was a horrible, demented noise, devoid of any type of humour; causing Angeal to instinctively take a step back.

No-one that young should make such an unnatural sound.

The child in the red jumper began to shake from the force of the laughter, people passing by looked on nervously – the sound eventually dissolving into bubbling little giggles that flowed freely from his mouth like water from a burst pipe.

Genesis put his gloved hand to his mouth in attempt to stifle the hysterical noises and turned back to Angeal, his head still bowed towards the ground, so that the younger boy was only able to see his mouth, which was quirked up in a demented little grin.

"You can't help me, _little boy_."

Angeal frowned deeply, lines appearing on his forehead.

Genesis snorted quietly and turned away.

"Go home."

And with that the boy in the red jumper stalked away.

Angeal watched the older boy leave in silence, making no attempt to stop him or call him back.

He paused for a moment and glanced up at the sky, crimson beginning to morph into purple.

It was getting late…he should probably go home.

For a second, Angeal hesitated, then turned, silently following the older boy as he walked down the road.

* * *

20 minutes later and _nothing_ had changed.

Genesis still had no idea where he was, still had seen nothing of Scott…

He finally came to a halt at the object in front of him.

It was the wagon he had punched earlier.

He whimpered – for once, not caring how pathetic he sounded.

This was _ridiculous_.

Suddenly Genesis suddenly found himself _wanting_ to go home.

The world contained in those four walls suddenly seemed a lot less complicated.

At least, he actually knew where everything was there…

"You're lost."

Genesis didn't bother turning around this time – he already knew who it was.

He didn't even try putting up a fight, all the retorts dying instantly on his tongue. Instead, he sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping.

"Haven't you got someone else to annoy?"

The redhead didn't see the other smile.

They were finally talking. This was progress.

"I'm only trying to help – I didn't realise that was annoying -"

"Telling me what I already know isn't helping." Genesis snapped irritably.

There was a pause.

"…so you admit that you don't know where you are?"

Genesis paused, scowling when he realised he'd just lost the argument.

He growled - Angeal couldn't help but chuckle.

"Something funny?"

Angeal stifled his laughter, but a strange little smile remained on his face.

"You're such a sore loser."

Genesis blinked in surprise, scowl deepening.

He looked away, feeling exasperated.

"Do you actually know where it is you're going?"

Genesis opened his mouth to give the boy a scathing retort when he realised that the kid had a point.

Just where was he going?

Home? To find Scott?

Where did Scott say he was going anyway?

_"Look, um…I'm gonna have to go for a little bit."_

_Scott continued in a flustered tone as Genesis began to frown._

_"I'll be back – don't worry! I just…have to go help my uncle for a little bit."_

His uncle…the blacksmith.

"I'm looking for the blacksmith."

Angeal blinked, obviously not expecting that answer.

"Well…have you tried his shop?"

Genesis was about to reply that he hadn't because he had no idea where to find it – when he remembered that he wasn't actually supposed to be in Banora to start with. And not knowing where things were in a town as small as this would only make things look suspicious…

"Um…"

Angeal gave him a slightly strange look, a warm smile melting onto his face. Genesis felt his heart give a little squeeze.

"You don't go out much do you?"

Genesis saw the opportunity and ran with it, remembering what Scott had said to the acquaintance when introducing him.

"No, first time I've been to Banora – I'm here on holiday visiting a relative."

Angeal raised an eyebrow.

"And this relative left you alone in a town you know nothing about?"

Genesis glanced over at Angeal, a faint little smile pulling at his mouth.

This boy caught on pretty quickly for someone as young as he was.

He'd have to watch what he said extra carefully.

"Not exactly – we went to a bookshop, but then he said he had to go to the blacksmith's for some reason - he said he'd come back for me, but then the shop closed…"

Genesis looked over at Angeal, to find a thoughtful little frown on his face. There was no suspicion however – so apparently he'd bought his story.

That was good.

"Who is this relative you're visiting – if you don't mind me asking…"

Genesis felt the smile grow stronger. The kid was polite, too.

"Scott Marsden."

There was no point in lying, he reasoned. This boy obviously knew the town better than he did, so probably knew most of the people in the town too.

Inventing some fake person would get him nowhere.

Genesis felt his blood freeze as Angeal cast him a questioning look. Steely blue eyes grew suspicious.

"I thought his uncle and cousin were the only family members he had left."

They were Scott's last remaining relatives?

What happened to everyone else – his parents, other possible siblings?

_Did they all die, too?_

So it seemed that Scott had even more secrets. Just how deep did the rabbit hole go?

Genesis scratched his head apologetically, a wry little smirk on his face.

"Yeah…our parents separated a long time ago. I stayed with Mum and Scott went with Dad – but then Dad died so Scott came here."

Oh dear Lord, he was lying SO MUCH. That entire statement was one _big fat lie_. Genesis hoped that this kid wouldn't think this intriguing enough to ask others questions about it.

He needed to shut up, before things got any worse.

But Angeal wasn't finished yet.

"How comes Scott didn't go and live with you and your mother afterwards?"

Genesis gulped silently, glad the action would be covered by the jumper he was wearing – this_ HAD_ to be the last question.

"Well…they'd never really gotten on, big brother had always taken Father's side. And also he wants to complete his apprenticeship soon, so he's staying here until he's finished it."

Silently, he congratulated himself on creating such a convincing storyline.

Angeal, thankfully, seemed satisfied with the explanation – there were no more questions after that.

"In that case, I reckon we should try the blacksmith's – unless of course you want to go home instead?"

_Home?_

_Oh, Scott's home. NO_.

Genesis didn't want to get there and find the blacksmith and his son there waiting.

That could be an interesting situation.

So, the redhead shook his head.

"No, I'll go find him at the blacksmith's."

Angeal nodded in confirmation and turned the opposite way and began walking.

Genesis opened his mouth to talk, when Angeal cut him off.

"In that case, follow me."

* * *

No-one said anything as they stood in front of the blacksmith's – the blackened windows and the locked front door said all that was needed and more.

Angeal risked a glance at the still hooded figure.

He couldn't see the other's face, but was sure that to say his new companion was unhappy would be an understatement.

As a matter of fact, Angeal hadn't actually seen the older boy's face properly – the face always at least partially hidden by the large hood of the jumper he wore.

Perhaps the jumper belonged to Scott, as it was far too big for this boy.

_Scott Marsden's little brother…_

Why did he find that so hard to believe?

The story behind their separation was normal enough – something like that happened to people all the time, but yet…

There was something...not quite right about it all.

A seed of doubt in the back of his mind that remained rooted, no matter how often he told himself to stop being paranoid.

The Marsdens in general were more secretive than most families in the town – choosing to keep more to themselves than spread gossip, a reason he and his mother respected the family above most others.

Reese, the blacksmith, had lived in Banora for most of his life – his son, Alexander, was born here in the town 8 years ago.

Scott himself arrived just under a year ago.

He was alone upon his arrival, though whether he had_ left_ for Banora alone was uncertain.

It seemed that his uncle and cousin weren't expecting him either – there had been reports of arguments between the teen and his uncle, about the money being stretched thin enough as it was without there being another mouth in the house to feed.

It seemed however, that Scott himself was not without his fair share of skills.

He could cook (which got him his job working in the Rhapsodos' household), handle and use various weapons with considerable proficiency – Scott himself had never commented on that, putting it all down to his training for his blacksmith apprenticeship.

There were reports that he also knew how to pick locks and hack into various security systems – though he had never commented on that and Angeal found himself believing it to be no more than a rumour.

Scott's personality seemed likeable enough, some would even go as far as to call him charming.

His general mood seemed very laid-back and relaxed, making him an easy person to get along with. That, in addition, to his good looks and considerable intelligence made him very popular with girls in the town.

The fact that his background was so mysterious only added to their adoration.

It was perfectly reasonable that Scott would have siblings hidden in the background – Angeal was not so naïve as to think that there was nothing outside Banora, like some of the others he knew did.

But…why now?

And why had this never been mentioned?

The black haired youth was brought back to the present as he saw the hooded boy turn around and walk away.

"Wait – what are you going to do now?"

There was silence for a few moments.

"…going home, I guess."

The figure slowly trudged away.

Angeal felt reluctant to let the boy leave so suddenly. As rude and suspicious as he was, he couldn't help but feel an odd sort of empathy for him, maybe even sympathy. He wouldn't go as far as to say he felt pity for the boy, as he was sure the other wouldn't take too kindly to that.

But more than anything else, this boy was…intriguing.

He was like no-one Angeal had ever met before – this kid didn't bother with the fake niceties that everyone else did. The bluntness, the directness, the honesty.

It was all oddly _refreshing_.

"Wait."

He found himself calling after the red figure, the colour of the fabric bright now against the deep purple of the late evening sky.

The boy stopped obediently but didn't turn around.

"If you want, you can stay at my place for a while – it isn't far away and I'm sure they won't mind. You should probably leave a note or something though, in case they get worried…"

Angeal's voice trailed off, as he fidgeted nervously – awaiting the other's reply.

Genesis didn't move. Angeal took the other's lack of reply as a refusal and turned away, feeling deflated.

"…why are you doing this?"

Genesis' voice was quiet, weak even.

The redhead was tired, so exhausted by everything that had happened recently.

He'd been beaten up by his father, then cornered, kidnapped and abandoned by a overly-paranoid, borderline schizophrenic teenager and finally he was being stalked by some random kid who was being too damn nice to him, for what seemed like no reason whatsoever. Why?

Why, why, _why?_

_WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!_

"Hey…"

A gentle voice spoke from directly in front of him and Genesis looked up, unshed tears in his eyes.

Angeal smiled softly at him, a warm expression that made Genesis want to shrivel up and die.

_NOOOOOOOOO. WHY?!_

Genesis wanted to shout the words out, scream them so loud his vocal cords would snap. Maybe then everything would just…_make sense_.

But instead, they came out as a whimper, a quiet desperate plea for mercy as he stood teetering on the brink of madness.

"Why are doing this? _What do you want?_"

Angeal looked down at the ground, thinking over his answer carefully.

"I don't want anything from you…I just want to make sure you'll be OK."

"But _why?"_

At this, Angeal smiled. Yet another one of his heartbreaking smiles that make Genesis feel as though he were burning alive – the ant under the magnifying glass slowly being fried.

"…because I chose to."

Genesis froze.

His gaze ever so slowly drifting up to meet Angeal's metallic blue eyes, the unspoken question flickering brightly at the centre.

Somehow, some way – Genesis found himself smiling back.

And in that moment, their fates were sealed.

* * *


	5. Chapter 3c

**A/N: Hey everyone - I'm back once again! I am STUPIDLY tired and depressed (winter's coming, I'm always like this around this time of year, damn annoying - something about there not being enough sunlight). I dunno. So I am posting this chapter to make everyone feel better ^_^.**

**I've got 12 reviews so far, 10 alerts and nearly 400 hits! *happy little squeal* Thank you guys! I kinda thought that everyone would stop reading once they saw my OC, but apparently not :-D**

**And BIG THANKS to Cookie, my beta - this story would be so much worse without her. Don't even try to deny it _!!**

**Here's the latest installment - enjoy! **

**P.S: Wish me luck on my Maths IGCSE on Thursday =S!!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything apart from Scott, which is damn sad. If I did own it, there would be LOTS of yaoi, Angeal and Zack would NOT have died, Sephiroth and Genesis would not have gone insane and my favourite EVER FF7 guy would get MUCH more screen time...**

* * *

The journey across Banora was short, much shorter than Genesis had expected, and he found himself wondering how on earth he had managed to lose himself in a town as small as this one. He knew he should probably find it alarming, that his sense of direction was truly that bad, but found he wasn't able to.

Still, Genesis couldn't bring himself to feel angry – and he had a hunch as to why that was. The black haired boy was walking out in front of him, so Genesis was free to look at him without the fear of being seen.

He didn't know what it was, but there was something about this boy that made him seem different from the others. Different even from Scott – though he was considering putting the red-haired teen in a category of his own. The older boy was too confusing for Genesis to think about, without getting a headache in the process.

This kid – despite not knowing his name yet - was much simpler, straight-forward. Things weren't as confusing with him.

The boy came to a stop suddenly in front of a small house at the end of a quiet road, the building separated from the others by a short distance. Inside the lights were on, golden rays beaming through the open windows.

The child held up an arm to block Genesis' path. "I'll go in first."

The door swung open and the boy stepped inside. "Mother…"

"Oh, thank heavens! Where have you been? I expected you home earlier…"

"I'm sorry, mom. A friend of mine was lost and I wanted to escort him home safely, but his family weren't there."

Genesis jolted. _Friend?_

"Oh…was your friend OK?"

"Yes, I think so. I invited him back here for a little while until someone comes to take him home. I hope you don't mind…"

Ms Hewley laughed softly. "Oh, not at all – let them come in."

Angeal stepped aside, beckoning Genesis into the house. "Mother, this is –"

Genesis stepped inside and pushed back his hood. "Jem Marsden. Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He smiled politely and bowed.

Ms Hewley beamed, laughing quietly. "Oh, I'm no 'ma'am', young man. But thank you, regardless. It is a pleasure to meet you too, Jem Marsden. Tell me, are you related to Reese and Alexander Marsden?"

_Reese and Alexander? _Genesis' mind momentarily went blank._ Who were they?_

"Yes – Jem is a relative of Scott's; his little brother who has come over to visit him in Banora for the first time." Angeal continued on regardless, deliberately ignoring the partially stunned look from the other. "Scott left for the blacksmith's and Jem went looking for him – but the shop had closed by the time he arrived. He was lost, so I brought him back here. We've left a note on the door, so they know he is OK and don't worry about him."

Gillian smiled warmly once more. "Well, any friend of my son's is _always_ welcome. Stay for as long as you like."

Genesis reacted instinctively, though his gaze remained on the boy staring back at him, unblinking. "Thank you, I should be glad to – if you don't mind of course."

For some reason, Genesis didn't even try to figure out why this boy had saved him once again. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that, for the moment at least, he was safe. The preteen smiled nervously at the other. He had never been good with heartfelt 'thank you's.

This time, it was her son who answered. "Of course we don't. _You can come here anytime you want_."

* * *

The chair was seated next to the fireplace. It was a log fire, ignited by a lighter and fed with wood to keep it going. They couldn't use the gas at the moment as Gillian was using it to cook in the kitchen. The fire was pleasantly warm in contrast to the chill of the evening air outside, which seeped in through the gaps down the sides of the windows.

From his position curled up in the large chair, Genesis felt himself grow sleepier and he found himself having to try harder and harder to keep his eyes open. His gaze drifted back from the fire to the book he held in front of him, the one he had bought from the shop earlier.

It was an interesting book, Genesis had decided, though confusing in a way he had yet to come across before.

However, this was not due to the fact that LOVELESS had turned out to be a play. Genesis had read various plays before, and in his opinion, they were just different types of stories. He could also tell almost straight away that this play was like one long poem, the way it was written, the atmosphere the words gave off – it was light, calm, as if one could quite easily find themselves daydreaming about the verses as they were read.

For him, reading poetry was a bit like drinking champagne – the overall quality was far superior to that of normal prose, the mood much more reflective and somehow refined, as though only those of superior intelligence were meant to understand it.

Which was all very well, except from when it was the only thing keeping him awake.

And Genesis falling asleep was not an option. The mayor and his wife would be back sometime tomorrow morning and he would be in _serious trouble_ if he was not home when they arrived.

"Dinner in five minutes."

His "rescuer" was standing in the open kitchen doorway, hands in his pocket. Genesis' heart gave a dangerous lurch in anxiety.

The two boys had not spoken, or even made eye contact since the introduction some time ago. Gillian, thankfully, seemed to be oblivious of this fact and had started making dinner not long after she had seen to the older boy's injured hand.

His knuckles still burned from the antiseptic she had dressed the wounds with, the broken skin not taking too well to the harsh chemicals. It was stronger than the type his parents kept at home in the bathroom cupboard – Gillian had worked as a doctor's assistant some years ago in Midgar and always kept the basic equipment around her whenever possible she had said, though what she had wouldn't be enough to deal with life-threatening injuries – only cuts and scrapes like the one Genesis had received when he 'fell out of an apple tree outside the bookshop Scott had left him in'. He always felt guilty after lying to good, honest people like her.

The subtle underlying scent of something warm and faintly spicy filtered in through the open doorway and Genesis felt his stomach growl in anticipation; he hadn't eaten since just before Scott had arrived at the mansion that morning. "OK, thank you."

Angeal's smile was thin. "You're welcome, _Jem._"

Genesis was suddenly wide awake – painfully aware of the slight mocking edge to the name. Something was wrong here.

His gaze followed Angeal as he quietly closed the door and made his way over to a tiny crooked footstool in front of the reclining armchair.

The preteen hurriedly looked away as the footstool creaked under Angeal's weight. The older boy stared at the book pages, trying to take his attention away from the boy sitting in front of him – but the passage no longer seemed to make sense. The black solid ink of each letter stood frozen to the page and Genesis' mind tried to thread them all together into something that made sense, but it wasn't working. Meanwhile, the fire crackled and spat in the background, black shadows retreating back up the chimney.

"_Who are you?_"

All his efforts spent trying to read vanished with that one statement, but Genesis did not look up from the book, suddenly very reluctant to meet the others gaze. "I'm Jem Marsden, Scott's little brother – I'm sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier…" He replied, with just the right amount of confusion and guilt.

But the damage was already done and Genesis began to understand with a sick feeling of dread that the younger boy seemed now to suspect that what Genesis had told him earlier was a lie. It was perhaps only a matter of time until he found out. However, the preteen was just trying to postpone this outcome for as long as possible, hopefully for long enough so that he would be able to leave without revealing his true identity.

"You're lying."

Genesis tensed, glad the book was there to shield the flash panic that swept across his gaze. "Why would I lie about that?"

The other boy's brows knitted together. "I don't know. But who forgets the names of those he has been staying with – especially when they are members of his own family?"

The preteen sucked in a quiet breath, annoyed that he had looked over something so crucial. Why had this never occurred to him before? He bit back a curse. Getting out of this unscathed would be nigh on impossible now. It was time for a change of tactics.

"Does it matter who I am?" He continued in a quiet, yet calm voice.

A frown formed on the younger child's face, worried at the thought that his suspicions had all but been confirmed. "I'd say it does. This is my home – I would like to know just who it is I've let in."

_Fair enough_, Genesis mused. "You speak as though I am some sort of criminal – I'm not here to cause any harm."

"That's not what I asked."

Genesis felt himself shrinking further back into the chair at the slight edge present in the other's voice, as if hoping he could somehow sink right through it and escape from this interrogation. The preteen scowled in annoyance. A child should not be able to make him feel this way! This boy was too nosy and _observant_ for his liking. Scott may have realised that the preteen didn't tell him everything, but at least he didn't comment on it. The teen had understood that when Genesis deliberately skated around the subject, it was a clear sign that the topic being discussed was strictly off-limits.

Apparently the child in front of him hadn't.

"Look, I'm not causing anyone trouble. I'm not doing anything wrong. So why the sudden urgency?" Genesis stated.

"You lied to me. I need to know I can trust you."

"You never _asked_ what my name was."

"But you _did_ say you were related to the Marsdens."

Neither of them spoke for a while.

"Self-protection, OK? I'm not stupid enough to give my name out to everyone who wants to know. Especially not to those who follow me around the town, offering help when I've made it clear I don't want it."

Angeal smirked. "If I hadn't 'followed you around the town, offering help even when it wasn't wanted' – you'd still be out there now, looking for the blacksmith's."

Genesis bristled, expression darkening at the subtle jibe. "…_That's not the point_."

"That's _exactly_ the point. Banora isn't a big town - anyone who knows the rough layout can find their way around pretty quickly; but yet you seemed to struggle…"

The leather book cover made a low noise of protest as Genesis' fingers dug into it painfully, his cheeks flushed for a reason that had nothing to do with the heat from the fireplace. "_Did I _ask_ for your personal analysis?!"_

Making the older boy angry was something Angeal had wanted to avoid at all costs, due to the other's tendency to punch anything nearby when such emotions arose. But at the same time, the fraying emotions showed that he was starting to get to him.

Also, Angeal couldn't help but find the older boy's stubborn resistance somewhat amusing. "This was really your first time in Banora, wasn't it?"

Genesis flinched, the book casing tearing angrily as a fingernail dug in too deep…

Checkmate.

There was complete silence again. LOVELESS remained in place. Angeal's smile faltered and died as the implications of the conversation sunk in. This was boy…was a complete stranger. Angeal didn't know his name, where he lived, who his family was – he didn't even know how old this boy was…

Genesis glanced up nervously, blue eyes peeking over the top of his book. His gaze landed on the boy, who was glaring at the floor with a glazed expression. Unknowingly, the preteen found himself staring intently at the boy's face – the way blue eyes flickered purple in the firelight, the way the skin around them glowed brightly, highlighting the faint shadows on that face, the dark crease between his eyebrows as he thought, the slight downturn of his mouth… Those blue eyes abruptly met his own, all trace of humour gone from them.

Genesis felt something icy slide down his back, fear beginning to blossom in his chest. He looked away.

"It's not what you think." The battle armour had well and truly vanished now and a lost, scared little boy afraid of the spotlight beaming down on him stood in his place. His voice came out weaker than he had hoped and Genesis inwardly cringed.

The other boy just raised an eyebrow. "I never said it was."

Genesis sighed in exasperation, angry and frightened that he had managed to find himself cornered so early on. "You don't understand!" he cried.

"Then help me to."

The helplessness hardened into a smouldering anger. Just who did this kid think he was? No way was he going to tell him anything – it was _none of his business_. _"Did I ask for your help?"_

Angeal sighed quietly, a look of resignation on his face. "No. But I'm offering it anyway."

_Not this again. _"Can you not take a hint? _I don't want your help._ Or your _pity_. Take them both and go – you're wasting your time with me."

Angeal frowned solemnly – it seemed their newfound friendship had taken yet another step back. His eyebrows knitted together in thought whilst Genesis glared at the fireplace, angry but relieved the inquisition was over.

"Angeal Hewley."

Or maybe not. Genesis glanced up in confusion. "What?"

"My name is Angeal Hewley. What's yours?"

He didn't answer immediately; and considered not answering the question at all.

But then again, what was the point in hiding the truth anymore – he seemed to already know everything as it was… Genesis sighed deeply.

A tired little smile melted onto his face, eyes lowering to the ground. It was a simple question, but Genesis found himself not wanting to answer. Perhaps it was partially to do with the fact that he was actually a little ashamed of being related to the mayor of Banora – especially after hearing from Scott about everything his father had been forcing upon the townspeople. But it seemed more than that. Genesis simply didn't want Angeal to know – was it so much to ask that there be _one_ person around him that was there of their own free will, instead of because they were forced to out of expectation from their parents, or out of fear?

Angeal sighed in defeat, not expecting to get a reply for that question, when he saw it.

He looked back at Genesis' face and sure enough that expression was still there.

His frown deepened. Angeal had seen that same exact same expression somewhere else. A memory briefly flickered through his mind along with a strange sense of déjà vu, before flitting away once again before he could focus on it. But there was one thing he was now pretty certain of: he had seen this boy before. But where? When? How? Angeal needed a name.

He opened his mouth to ask, when Gillian had poked her head around the corner of the door, a soft smile on her face that brightened as the two preteens looked up in surprise. "Dinner's ready."

Genesis wordlessly looked back at her son and gave the other a strange lopsided smile as he got up and left for the table, where Gillian was laying out the cutlery.

Angeal just stared at the place the older boy had been sitting in a few seconds previous, a blank stoic look plastered on his face.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, the table was set and all three people in the Hewley household were sat around the table, helping themselves to various stews and salads in a variety of bowls spread out across the table.

Genesis had never really been one for stews himself – he had always found the taste revolting, the consistency often made it resemble lumpy diarrhoea and there were often pools of oil, the size of small reservoirs, floating on the surface of the food. He had no idea as to how, but somehow Ms Hewley's stews managed to change his views of them forever. The food was fantastic and the preteen found himself wishing that he could stay longer; maybe change his identity officially and move in with Angeal and his mother – escape from the tower forever.

But no. That could and would never happen. It was simply impossible. His mind challenged him to come up with reasons to back up that statement but Genesis forced them all down, deciding that if this were to be his only stay in 'paradise' he would enjoy it for as long as possible – without letting depressing thoughts about towers and manacles and tyrannical politicians get in the way.

But all those thought of happiness vanished from his head at the sight of the silver car paint reflecting brightly in the moonlight as it drove past the window.

Angeal briefly glanced over at the window and saw something silver in the corner of his vision disappearing down the road, once again being swallowed by the surrounding darkness. There was a clang sound as something metallic hit the floor.

He looked up to see the seat across from him empty and the front door swung wide open, the spoon the older boy had been eating with glinting tiredly as it lay on the tiled floor, rocking gently from side to side.

* * *

His own harsh breathing was all he could hear, the sensation of the cold evening air leaching the little moisture left in his throat forcing him to gulp repeatedly.

Genesis had shoved the door open using his injured shoulder and as a result it throbbed painfully – but the feeling was blocked out by the overriding panic and fear coursing through his veins.

The mayor's car was moving considerably faster than Genesis himself was, and the preteen was beginning to understand with a sickening sense of despair that his parents would arrive home long before he did. How on earth had he let this happen? He had been sure his parents weren't due back until the next morning...

Genesis ran straight into someone as he sprinted down the pavement, the speed of the collision shoving the stranger back a couple of paces. He spluttered out a quick apology before moving past the figure and down the road. The one he had run into gripped Genesis' arm fiercely as he attempted to pass and swung the preteen around so his back was against the wall. A sharp burst of outrage, fury and despair ripped through the boy as his imagination ran ahead of him, struggling to comprehend that something like _this _could happen to him now…

Abruptly, the hood was wrenched back from his face and Genesis glanced up at his attacker.

"_YOU!_ WHERE THE _HELL_ HAVE YOU BEEN?! I TOLD YOU TO _WAIT FOR ME IN THE SHOP!"_

It was Scott. Genesis could have cried in relief, but the emotions were stifled by the frightening intensity of the other's fury.

"DO YOU HAVE _ANY IDEA_ HOW SCARED I WAS?! I THOUGHT THAT YOU -THAT THEY… "

The teen's voice suddenly broke, his head bowing forward, hands gripping Genesis' shoulders tightly. Scott's entire form was trembling.

Genesis stared at the older boy in alarm, the sensation reminding of the task at hand.

"Scott! They're back - my parents, they're home early! I saw their car driving past a couple of minutes ago – _we have to go!"_

Scott halted in the middle of his rant and blinked at Genesis, a grave expression washing away his previous anger, drying the unseen wetness in his eyes. The teen cursed quietly under his breath, before taking the younger boy's hand leading him quickly down a connecting alleyway.

"Where are we going?" Genesis panted, having to jog to keep up with Scott's longer strides.

"Down here. We're taking a shortcut."

* * *

The next few minutes passed by in a rush, as though his life was suddenly a tape on fast forward. He remembered the humid dampness of the tunnels they passed through as the two of them all but ran through the system of alleyways that spanned the entire town. He remembered the relentless pace of Scott's strides and how, by the time they were rounding the corner leading to Genesis' house, the preteen was sprinting to keep up.

The silver sports car looked just as it did on the day his father had driven it home a few days after he first became mayor. His father only ever used the vehicle for visiting those in the upper classes, or for attending council meetings held in other towns. It was the best and most expensive looking car the Rhapsodos family owned.

When Genesis was 10, he had thrown a brick at the windscreen, just to spite his father. It was a stupid thing to do, the preteen had been well aware the mayor loved that car; but that was the whole point – vengeance. His father had never hurt him so badly as he had that day, Genesis' broken wrist had taken months to heal, but it was all worth seeing the man's horrified expression upon sighting the broken glass.

Genesis was sure his father was going to cry then. And that thought never failed to bring a dark little smile to the son's face.

Scott had tapped him on the shoulder, tugging on his arm as they made their way around the outside of the house to Genesis' bedroom and the boy just had enough time to spot the frown and the darkening expression on his father's face; realising with a jolt that none of the staff had seen him since his parents had left that afternoon.

Now the mayor would be sure to check on him.

Quickening his pace, he pointed out his bedroom window to Scott and cursed bitterly when he found the window had been sealed shut – something Genesis himself had never actually noticed before.

The teen gently pushed him out of the way and began fumbling around in his pockets for something. His movements became panicked as he realised could not find what it was he was looking for. Genesis frowned in thought. Scott tried to push the window upwards, hoping it could open from the outside, when Genesis reached into his pocket and handed Scott the pocket knife he had given him earlier. Sighing in relief, the teen took the pocket knife and flipped it open, sliding the blade through a thin crack between the windowsill and the frame. Hearing a small cracking noise, he grinned slightly and once again pushed the window up, this time, it opened and Genesis climbed through, closing it behind him. Footsteps were coming down the corridor outside, getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

Genesis spun around to Scott in alarm shooing him away urgently.

The teen's eyes widened as he nodded his head, waving goodbye quickly before hurrying away into the darkness. The preteen rushed to the bed, just as the door handle was pushed down, light spilling in from the outside corridor…

Mr Rhapsodos opened the door to the boy's room, glaring blankly at the human sized lump underneath the blanket. The breathing was slow, the child made no noise while he slept.

Genesis held his breath, allowing only small amounts of air in and out in a regular breathing pattern. He could feel the light staring down at him, his father was still there watching him. The mayor stood in the doorway in a powerful stance, his silhouette was splayed out on the floor in his son's direct line of vision. Genesis' heartbeat was pounding in his ears, making them throb, the sound of war drums blocking almost all else around him.

After what seemed like an eternity later, the door closed, separating Genesis from his father. Only then did he let go of all the breath he had been holding. Genesis wasn't particularly comfortable – the blanket was thick and he was still wearing Scott's jumper. His thigh ached from where the pocket knife had rubbed against his leg while he ran. But he found himself not particularly minding, his mind only now processing just how far he had progressed in one week. He had snuck out from his house twice, seen his hometown properly for the very first time and had managed to make two new acquaintances along the way. That was more than he had managed to do in over a decade. The preteen couldn't help but feel slightly smug about the fact that he had accomplished more by himself than he ever had with his parents there. He felt himself relax into the bed, eyes sliding shut.

A warm feeling of happiness spread through his chest and for the first time in years – Genesis Rhapsodos went to sleep with a smile on his face.

* * *


	6. Chapter Four

**A/N: Goooooooooooooood morning/evening (depending on where you live =S) ladies and gentlemen. Back with another little slice of...stuff, for you all to read ^_^. Damn, this is some SPEEDY updating for me - two chapters in half a month or something crazy like that, ain't it? Wow O_O. **

**Cheers to all my reviewers, alerters, people who read this but cba to say anything - your support means a lot. I've got the week off 'cos my school got closed down - swine flu epidemic. WOOHOO!! Lots of lovely work to catch up on but I'll try to get a chapter out soon as poss. **

**GCSE Maths over!! Thank God, for that - am now doing AS Maths, wow I feel all grown up...**

**Anyways!**

**Big super duper thanks go to Cookie ^^ *hands her a blueberry muffin* for all her betaing and advice and keeping this thing as un-OOCish as possible...**

**Enjoy!**

**-M.M-**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII in any way, shape or form. None of the characters, other than Jem, Scott and the Marsden family, are mine. Meeeh T_T.**

* * *

The rap of his knuckles against the front door was loud in the quiet backstreet. Angeal shifted his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to block out the chill of the morning air permeating through his clothes.

A few dead leaves rolled past, the sound of them scraping against the pavement grating against his eardrums.

He could hear the sound of other children talking and laughing on their way to school, their small figures just visible in the distance.

Angeal turned back to face the opposite side of the road, where three of his friends stood in silence, eyeing the closed door warily.

The child looked down and sighed, thinking that perhaps all the houses' occupants had already left, that he had arrived too late – when it swung open.

Angeal looked up in surprise and instantly wished he hadn't.

A small group of teenagers passing by whistled appreciatively at Scott as he stood in the doorway bare-chested with his red hair mussed from where he'd slept on it.

A pretty blush dusted Angeal's cheeks as he focused his gaze on anywhere but the other's chest as the teen's body shifted so that he could wave at the passers-by, allowing the child a glimpse at the hand Scott kept beside him – and what it was holding.

His breath caught in his throat.

_A gun…?_

And then in one smooth movement it was gone; the hand tucked safely behind the teen's leg, Scott smiling down at Angeal. It was meant to be a carefree, inquisitive smile and to most others it probably looked it – but to Angeal, there was something undeniably _sour_ about it.

He had seen more than he was meant to.

"Good morning, Angeal – can I help you?"

The younger boy blinked and smiled politely up at the teen. "Hello Scott. I was wondering, is Jem here at the moment?"

The redhead's eyes widened a little, before frosting over as his expression darkened. "How is it you know Jem?"

The blue-eyed child felt a sudden jolt of fear at the tone in the other's voice. He'd have to choose his words very carefully. But still, there was no point in lying. "I met him yesterday evening while he was looking for you."

Scott said nothing for a few moments and Angeal chose not to meet his gaze. The older boy sighed loudly and muttered something low and ugly under his breath. "No. He's not here at the moment."

_He never was._

"Should I pass on a message to him for you?"

"There's no message, but…" The boy held out the object in his hand – the reason he had come to see the teen in the first place. "He left this at my house yesterday. Could you possibly make sure he gets it?"

Scott frowned and looked down at Angeal's hand, before he sucked in a quick breath.

_LOVELESS._

* * *

_The sun was shining when the little princess awoke the next morning. She didn't open her eyes, but could feel the heat on her eyelids, the warmth against her skin._

It was too warm_, she thought briefly and tried to wriggle away from the sunlight, only to find herself being weighed down by something._

_A blue eye cracked open and the knight's hooded cloak swam into focus, the memories flooding back bringing a soft little smile to her face._

_The princess buried her face in the cloak and breathed in softly, the smile getting bigger. It smelled nice, she reflected._

_A tap on the window brought her back to reality and she looked up, feeling oddly delighted to see the owner of the cloak standing outside the window with his back to her – the chain-mail shirt glinted brilliantly in the late morning sunshine._

_The princess got out of bed and hurried over to the window, prizing it open. She greeted the knight warmly with a bright smile on her face._

_But he turned to look at her, and the young princess was surprised to see that the visor was now raised, but felt her chest tighten at the expression on his face._

_Up above, the clouds surged forward, blocking out the sun's rays, temporarily plunging the world into darkness._

* * *

_"Tell me again - what happened after I left you in the bookshop?"_

Only a few minutes had passed since Genesis had woken up, but already his mood had changed drastically. He sat on the edge of his bed, head bowed with his hands clasped in his lap.

Scott was leaning against the wall next to the window. The mayor's son couldn't see the teenager's face as the sun still had not re-appeared, but the younger boy knew that the other was not happy.

_"The shop closed and I went to the blacksmith's where your uncle worked and that was closed too."_

_"And after that?"_

_"I decided to try and find my way back home when I saw the car and started running. Along the way, we ran into each other – you know what happened after that."_

_"Anything else?"_

Scott's voice gave away nothing, but Genesis was under the impression that the teen knew more than he was letting on. But if that were the case, why bother asking the questions in the first place?

The smaller redhead had always known the older boy could be cryptic at times, but this was on a completely different scale. He wasn't sure what exactly Scott was feeling, as his expression and tone of voice revealed nothing. _An act like that must take a lot of practice_, a voice whispered in the back of his head. Genesis shoved it aside, determined not to think bad of Scott just because the teen was acting strangely. He wanted to believe that the blacksmith apprentice did genuinely care about him and would not be plotting something that could intentionally harm him. But Scott wasn't making that belief any stronger by behaving like this.

The teen's eyes were now boring into him in a way that made Genesis feel very uncomfortable and awkward. The preteen scowled at his own weakness, suddenly feeling annoyed at Scott for making him feel this way. "Why is this suddenly so important?" He truly didn't understand – he was fine, they both were; nothing had happened the night before. _So what was the problem?_

Scott didn't reply instantly and for a second, the blue-eyed child was afraid he had said the wrong thing and had only succeeded in making the other angry. Then, a wry little smirk tugged at the teenager's lips and he gave a dry, bitter sounding chuckle. He moved over to the bed where the younger boy was and sat down next to him.

Reaching into a large pocket inside his dark brown trench-coat, Scott pulled something out and handed it to him.

It took him a couple of seconds, as it was turned the wrong way round, to figure out what it was.

Genesis made a cut-off noise of surprise as he took the book from the other's hands, his mind reeling as it combed back through the events of the previous evening in an attempt to remember where he had left it. He recalled buying it from the shop, the shop closing, meeting Angeal and standing outside the blacksmiths with him.

Did he still have the book with him then? Genesis thought so. He then went home with Angeal and met his mother, the boy had revealed that he knew that at least some of what Genesis had told him wasn't true. After that, there was the food, LOVELESS sitting obediently by the side of his plate, and then there was the car…

Genesis didn't remember holding the book when he was chasing after the car. But that meant

–_Oh Goddess…_

He could see it all now in his head: Angeal's startled expression at his hasty departure, the way his eyes would have glanced curiously over at the abandoned book. Of course, the boy would have made sure himself that 'Jem' and the book were re-united and so would have gone to the one person he was sure knew of the preteen's whereabouts. The teen in front of him. But said teenager was apparently not keen on giving out off-limits information to overly curious children. Especially those with no idea of the bigger plot obviously at work here – something Scott and Genesis were becoming hopelessly tangled up in.

_Oh, Angeal – what have you done? _

"How much does he know?" So Scott was aware of Angeal after all.

And Genesis had so hoped he could have kept the younger boy out of all of this. It had _nothing_ to do with him. "He knows that my name isn't Jem Marsden and that we're not related – but I think that's it."

The teen sighed quietly and his face relaxed, though his eyebrows remained knitted together in worry. "I didn't want anyone else involved in this – I still feel bad for involving you in this, but the Hewley kid…this doesn't_, shouldn't_ concern him _at all_." He bowed his head forwards, his red hair shielding his face from the younger boy.

Nobody said anything for a while.

"But Angeal's a part of this now, that can't be changed – he found out things about the both of us he probably shouldn't. But thankfully, it's a small part and he might not be affected by this at all…" He paused. "If he really insists, you can tell him what he wants to know, but it's probably best if you don't say everything. He's a good kid and his heart's in the right place, but sometimes you have to push away the ones you care about to protect them. Too much information is often more dangerous than none at all." Finally, he got up and turned to Genesis. "I have to go now, my break ended 5 minutes ago."

Realising that the teenager was leaving now, the mayor's son got up as well. "Scott…"

The taller redhead paused by the window. "Who told you my name was Scott, Genesis?" His voice came out quietly, softly – so much so the younger boy was stunned into silence.

Come to think of it, the teen had never actually _told_ him his name– Genesis had just assumed it was because of -

The preteen's heart gave a little squeeze as his breath caught in his throat.

_The picture…_

_But –_

Suddenly feeling very guilty, Genesis remained silent, his gaze sliding away from the other.

Scott smiled sadly at the window. _This is _exactly_ what I meant. You and I have both learnt to suspect everyone, because the innocent always get hurt in the end. Someone as honest and trusting as Angeal should not be involved in this_. He slid the window open and climbed out neatly, while Genesis remained staring at the now closed window long after the teen's figure had disappeared.

As Scott stalked across the edges of the estate, keeping to the shadows, a lone figure watched him leave from a window at the front of the house.

* * *

The skies had cleared, but the cloud hanging over his head refused to move. Genesis lay on his back staring at the ceiling above. There was a frown on his face, but he wasn't worried or upset at all; just apathetic. In fact, his mind was as blank as the ceiling. He wasn't sure what to think in any case, there were so many questions he could ask himself if he wanted to, but what was the point when he had so few answers to share around.

What exactly was it he had gotten himself involved in with Scott?

Was it dangerous?

Who else knew about it?

His gaze drifted over to the book on his bedside table.

_Angeal._

Genesis shook his head to clear it, all the musings drifting away like dead leaves on blustery autumn day. If what Scott had said was true, there wasn't much he could do to help Angeal – as he had already landed himself in this mess without realising it. But still, Genesis couldn't help but hope that no ill came to the younger child because of him or Scott. Collateral damage was always the worst part of a war.

_Congratulations; someone actually begins to care about you and they end up suffering because of it. You truly are a monster._

Then again, perhaps the same could be said for Scott…

ENOUGH.

Genesis rubbed his temples, feeling a headache approaching. There was no point in thinking about this – it wouldn't solve anything. Deciding he needed something to take his mind of the situation, he rolled onto his side and reached out for LOVELESS.

When he opened the front cover of the book, a letter fell out. Looking down at the small package, he flipped it over to see who it was addressed to.

Blank.

A wry little smirk appeared on his face. Genesis didn't know for certain, but he had a good idea of who the message was from. Tearing the seal off, he unfolded the lined paper and read the note silently.

_Hello._

_If you are reading this, then Scott Marsden kept his word and got this book back to you (it was left at my house after your sudden departure last night)._

_Had I actually known what your real name was and where you lived, I would have delivered this to you personally – but that wasn't possible._

_I hope that the reason you left so suddenly wasn't because of me or my mother (she's taken quite a liking to you) and that you are well and safe etc._

_Normally, I would have requested that you would reply to this, but seeing as how awkward and difficult that may be, I wondered if we could possibly meet up again some time soon._

_I'm not sure if you would be able to find your way to my house without assistance, so if you agree, it would probably be best if we met up by the fountain at the centre of town, not far from the wagon you assaulted yesterday evening, on Saturday (tomorrow) as that is when the town is at its busiest, so it would be easier for us to get lost in the crowd…_

_Yours, _

_Angeal Hewley_

He looked up from the note with a tight lipped smile, unsure whether to smile at the boy's genuine kindness and somewhat obvious method of trying to see him again, or to sneer at the subtle jibes and sarcasm lacing the message. No-one had caused this much turmoil in Genesis for a while. The preteen's mouth twitched up at the corners.

Angeal sure as hell was stubborn, it would be awfully tough to push him away now; even if he didn't reply, Genesis got the feeling the other would continue to send letters until he got one… _Face it, you like this kid and you _want_ to see him again. So stop using stupid half-hearted excuses to justify it and go already. _He couldn't deny it was true, no matter how badly he wanted to. This was dangerous, he shouldn't go…

But then again, if he had done everything he was meant to do, Genesis would never have met Angeal in the first place, he wouldn't have agreed to leave the house with Scott; he would have listened to his father that day and stayed in his room as he was told.

_OK, then – I'll meet Angeal_, he decided, smiling faintly at the distinct lack of fear and doubt in his stomach.

Why was it he was feeling so normal about breaking all the rules? First Scott, now Angeal. It must be part of a rebellious phase Genesis was going through.

Coming to think about it…the other boy had never really specified _when _they were supposed to meet. Angeal had teased him about getting lost in Banora and about hitting a cart on purpose, so therefore he could afford to at least make the younger boy wait around for him a little while. A small test of stamina.

At once, a triumphant mischievous grin rose to his face at the plan and he found himself wholeheartedly agreeing to it.

_Being playfully teased by someone else? Making them wait as punishment? Is it possible that you're playing 'hard to get' Genesis?_

He _refused_ to dignify that question with an answer.

* * *

The door to Banora's blacksmith opened with a soft creak as Scott hurried inside, closing it quietly behind him. However, the sound of this was drowned out by the clash of metal on metal, livid sparks flinging themselves in all directions as Reese Marsden worked in the forge. Silently taking his coat off, the teen crept over to the pegs in the far corner of the room, where the spare uniform had been left hanging limply, half an hour before.

Just as Scott's fingers trailed against the outfit a voice sounded out. "You're late."

The teen winced and turned to face the blacksmith, who had taken his wielding mask off. Reese Marsden was in his late thirties, short black hair streaked with grey framed a stern looking face with thick bushy eyebrows and very dark eyes. There was nothing particularly special about him, he could quite easily blend into a crowd of people with next to no trouble at all – one of the many things about the man Scott was eternally grateful for.

"Sorry…"

Mr Marsden snorted softly before turning back to his work. "So – did you see the kid?"

The blacksmith was the only other person who knew about Scott's connection to the Rhapsodos' child, and even he didn't know the details. And in truth, he was sure that was a good thing. Reese had told his 'nephew', not to get involved in that family; as they valued their privacy more than most; and the 'phantom child' living there was most likely the biggest secret they had. Still, it had all fallen on deaf ears.

The blacksmith sighed quietly. He had no idea why Scott cared so much about the boy. Still, it was not his problem. The teen had agreed to help out around the shop and look after Alexander when his father worked late nights and in return Reese kept his mouth shut and kept an eye and an ear open for anyone acting strangely in local area.

"Yes."

The blacksmith was used to the one-word answers and had learnt long along not to ask the other to elaborate. Scott was a very private person, despite the appearance of him being the local town heart-throb. He kept things close to his chest; too close for someone that young, the older man found himself thinking. In fact, Reese knew next to nothing about the strange teenager, as despite what had been spread out the town, the two men were not related.

He had discovered the boy nine months ago, stinking and filthy, attempting to steal a horde of weapons from the shop. Strangely enough, this child had managed to break in at the dead of night without making a sound and had made it halfway back across the room before being detected. Why exactly a 14 year old was trying to steal weapons even experienced warriors would have trouble handling, the blacksmith still did know, but from what he had dragged out from the near hysterical boy that night, it was to defend himself against the people he was running from, people the boy firmly believed would come back for him. After that, the boy just kept crying and wailing for someone, always the same person: Jem.

The blacksmith had taken him home that night and had told him he could stay for a couple of days, not fully believing Scott's story at the time.

But when strange men approached Reese the next day whilst working in the shop, asking about any children that arrived in the town unexpectedly, he had told Scott that it would not be safe for him to leave Banora for a few weeks at least; if only to make sure his pursuers had moved on.

Reese had given Scott had allowed Scott to use the name 'Marsden' to better blend in with the townspeople. However, the stories about how they were related were entirely Scott's doing.

Settling in had not been hard for the teenager; apparently there was a charm and a softer, gentler side behind all of the defensive retorts and scowls the blacksmith had encountered whilst trying to pry a story out of him all those months ago. And for such a young person, Scott had his fair share of talents, all of them useful, if not a little unorthodox for a kid.

All in all, the red-haired teenager had turned out to be a good investment for the blacksmith: a companion, an apprentice and though he would never tell the younger man, a friend. Scott would have to move on eventually – if the ones after him were as dangerous as they seemed, it would only be a matter of time until they found him. However, the blacksmith sure would miss him; something he was realising more and more as that time of reckoning loomed over the horizon.

There had been reports of strange men, not from around these parts, ambushing local traders and asking after young boys that may or may not be travelling with them. Strangers were passing through Banora once every few days, as though looking, waiting for something. Or someone.

The town was no longer safe for Scott – he would have to leave. And soon.

Reese looked back up at the teen and smiled faintly, gesturing to the spare outfit on the peg. "Alright, let's get to work."

* * *

_The little princess jolted awake at the loud noise. Terrified, her eyes roved around quickly, feverishly scanning the horizon for danger, only to realise that something was terribly wrong with what she was seeing._

_She was no longer in her room at the top of the tower, in fact the building itself was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was outside somewhere, completely alone in a wasteland of some sort. The whole place reeked of emptiness, loneliness – it was clear to her that nobody had been here for a long, long time._

_The noise sounded again and this time, she realised what it was – thunder. A storm was brewing on the horizon. The little princess needed to get home before it started, she had to be back before her captors realised she had disappeared – they would never believe that she had just randomly woken up in a foreign place with no memory of how the journey beforehand. Oh, she would be in so much trouble…_

_Feeling a little frightened, the princess got to her feet, only to fall back down again. Confused, she glanced down and gasped at the restraints chaining her wrists and ankles to the chair._

_Several things clicked into place for her at that moment: It was no accident that she had ended up here, this had been planned beforehand. Perhaps her captors had been the ones to organise this… But why? There was no logical explanation for her to be brought out here to the middle of nowhere. _

_The panic began to set in and she felt her breaths get shallower and faster, the thick rope cutting into her arms as she tensed instinctively. What was going on here?_

_The thunder sounded yet again, closer this time and the princess began to struggle even more, the rickety chair squeaked loudly as she rocked backwards and forwards, trying to move the chair if at all possible – but alas, it would not move. She whimpered quietly, despair clawing at her heart as the pain in her wrists increased, as though the rope were somehow tightening. Tears stung her eyes but she forced them back with a deep breath. She was stronger than this, surely. _

_The clouds flashed right above her head this time and she felt the ground jolt suddenly in response. The princess gasped softly, her entire body freezing as she swore she could hear another sound in the distance. Whipping her head around, blue eyes widened in horror._

_A great wall of freezing black water surged forward with frightening speed, obliterating everything in its path and charged down through the barren wasteland, casting the already dark sky into complete blackness. It was heading straight for her._

_Frantically, she tried to yank her limbs free of their restraints, not bothering to push back the tears that cascaded down her face._

_So that was the reason why she had been brought here…to die._

_NO! She yelled out, as though the volume of her cries would somehow bring her the extra strength needed to break free. The princess no longer cared about whether the ropes and the shackles hurt her or not – she would _not_ sit here and wait to die._

_Yelling out in pain as the first arm came free, she began to tear angrily at the rope restraining the other arm; trying to ignore the approaching tidal wave looming directly behind her._

_When she finally freed the other arm, the bruised skin throbbing, she watched in horror as the shadow of the wave loomed over her. She tried to turn, but couldn't bring herself to do it._

_The princess squeezed her eyes shut and hugged her shivering body tightly, hopeless tears dripping onto the barren ground beneath her._

Oh Goddess, no…

_And then it hit her._

_There was no slow motion collision, no coherent last thoughts about how cold the water was – one moment she was bracing herself for impact, the next the chair was all but smashed to pieces and she was sinking, falling backwards in the crushing black oblivion; the dark liquid wrapped itself around her and dragged the princess under. Her brain shut down, unable to deal with the shock, and her eyes began to close._

_Suddenly, there was a flash of white and something tugged hard at her waist, bringing a sudden wave of nausea. Her mind clung to the sensation with everything it had left as the princess felt herself being dragged away, being pulled upwards…?_

_That was all the warning she got before she burst through the water's surface and was carried on upwards, soaring high above the swirling blackness, watching it shrink under her feet._

_It was only as she was looking down that the princess realise there was an arm around her middle. Startled, she looked up at the saviour with the last of her strength and saw the pearly white wings, feathers streaming behind as they continued their ascent – and the pair of metallic blue eyes smiling warmly back at her._

* * *

**A/N: So there you have it! I won't whore myself out for reviews - but they would be warmly welcomed ^_^; Hehehehe...**


	7. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey everyone - sorry for the long wait, been kinda busy (damn GCSE mocks...) so yeah. That and this chapter is BLOODY LONG compared to all the others I've done so far. This must be the longest single chapter I've ever written in my life o_O. **

**Little update, you know that IGCSE maths exam I told you guys about before? I got the results back this morning. To get an A*, you needed an average of 85% over two papers - the highest that grade boundary has EVER been. And what did I get? Eighty four. _EIGHTY FOUR!_ **

**Now, in my school, you need to get an A* in order to take the subject at A Level - I was planning on taking maths at A Level, except I can't know. Which means I cannot do what I wanted to do jobwise in the future either. My entire life has been f***ed up becauase of one. goddamn. mark...**

***sits down on the floor and cries***

***Angeal frowns and gives authoress a hug***

***Scott quietly hands Genesis a note***

**Genesis: The Talented Mr Kipling would like to think everyone for supporting her story, a special thanks going to her beta reader, Cookiecat, for her input and encouragement. She would also like to point out that she does, in no way, own anything to do with FF7 other than her OCs, of which their are two new minor ones introduced in this chapter. Also, in Angeal's letter in the last chapter, it said that they were planning on meeting the day after the note received. This has been changed to the week after - so this chapter is set one week after the last one. The authoress will go back and edit this asap.**

**Signed, -M.M-**

* * *

The car pulled smoothly pulled to a stop at the top of the hill overlooking Banora. The engine cut out quietly and the two occupants got out. One of them unfolded the map clenched in his fist and scrutinised it closely.

"Are you_ sure_ this is the right place?"

His companion glanced briefly over at the other, before returning his gaze back to the small settlement below. "This is the only town in the area that hasn't been searched. Besides, he wouldn't have sent us here if he wasn't sure this was the place."

The one holding the map frowned slightly, lowering the map. He sighed.

"OK, then - I guess it's time to meet the locals."

And with that they got back into the car and drove down the slope towards the town centre.

* * *

Angeal was feeling apprehensive. It had been 45 minutes since he had arrived in Banora's town centre and he seen nothing of the elusive boy he had met the week before.

He wasn't particularly spontaneous; he had been brought up that way by his mother, who had once worked in a laboratory, following instructions to the letter. Therefore, Angeal had always believed that it was safer to follow guidelines closely than not at all. Yet here he was; waiting for a child he had spoken to only once before.

He shook his head, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. Perhaps this would be considered against the rules. But Angeal decided he would continue to wait anyway; it was only polite seeing as how it was he who invited the other out, and somehow he had a feeling his guest would be worth the delay.

* * *

Genesis finally arrived in the town centre later than he had expected. He had gotten lost once along the way, but soon found the path again after retracing his steps, _without_ asking for assistance. Given the fact this was the first time he had ever been to the town unaccompanied, he couldn't help but feel a little smug about that achievement.

He had briefly considered going to see Scott on the way there, but decided against it. Genesis had not seen him since the morning he had received Angeal's invitation, leading him to believe that perhaps the teen had not yet forgiven him for everything that had happened that night almost a week ago. Still, the mayor's son vowed that if he had time later on, he'd try to visit him - Scott's recent actions had raised even more questions in his mind and he wanted answers.

Genesis looked around the town square, hoping Angeal would already be there waiting for him. The fountain was right at the centre of the busy market and he had no desire to stand in direct sunlight whilst wearing Scott's thick hooded jumper.

It seemed as if all of Banora had gathered in the town centre than afternoon, the crowds of people milling around, bartering with the stall-keepers, sitting in chairs outside the small cafes, young children laughing happily as they ran around, neon coloured balloons trailing behind them. Someone walked past carrying food; freshly baked pastry of some sort with a warm, sweet undertone that made Genesis' mouth water and his stomach grumble loudly in protest. It was only then as his head turned to follow the scent that he spotted Angeal through the crowd.

The younger boy was indeed by the water fountain, just as he had specified in the note Scott had given him. He was sitting on the corner of the stone platform around the water itself, staring down at a piece of paper he held in his hands as if reading it. Genesis looked at him with an odd sense of detachment, _really_ looked at him properly as though meeting him for the first time.

From this far away, Angeal didn't really look much like a child his age. He was taller and not quite as scrawny as the other children Genesis had seen in Banora; but yet there was more to it than that.

Angeal was far smarter and more mature than a normal 10-year-old, though Genesis doubted that the boy had ever actually gone through any genuine hardship in his life. Everything seemed to be too straight-forward and simple from his point of view, as though the solution to every problem was staring at you in the face; and all you had to do was follow the instructions to get there.

But Angeal was a nice kid; he could quite easily have a perfectly normal life in Banora, perhaps with a wife and a couple of kids at some point in the future.

Scott had been right – there was no reason for someone like him to be a part of whatever was going on. And if Genesis somehow jeopardised the younger boy's future by becoming his friend, he didn't know what he would do.

Perhaps it would be best to simply walk away, pretend he hadn't found the letter. Genesis was sure Scott would lie to Angeal about it if he asked him to…

"He's waiting for you."

A small voice spoke up beside him and the mayor's son spun around to face his addressor so quickly he almost fell over. Normally, he was pretty good at listening out for things like this – yet lately, it seemed his skills were lacking somewhat. The fact that a child as small as the one before him had caught him unawares only made Genesis feel worse.

The boy couldn't have been older than 8 and was wearing simple clothes that looked as though they had been worn once too often; various parts of it had been stitched back together. Genesis didn't think they had met before; this child was a citizen of Banora – so how did he know who he was?

"Excuse me?"

Politeness was always essential when talking to those you knew little about. A likeable, good-natured personality was always smiled upon and often helped you gain allies quickly. A useful trick he had picked up from his father.

The boy's gaze dropped to the floor as he began to chew on his thumbnail. That action made him look years younger.

"My name is Lindon; I'm a friend of Angeal's. He's been standing by that fountain for ages now – I think he's been waiting for someone."

A smile began to melt onto Genesis' face. Angeal was waiting for him?

He then realised the strange boy was still standing besides him; a vacant, nonchalant expression on his face.

This child had seen him - there was no way Genesis could possibly back out of this now.

"Thank you. I'd best not keep him waiting then."

The other's mouth twitched slightly, Genesis thought it may have been a remnant of a smile – but maybe it was simply a trick of the light.

The mayor's son started away from his informer towards Angeal; suddenly feeling his stomach churn in anxiety. It had been a long time since he'd been genuinely nervous about meeting someone – but then again, it had been a long time since he'd chosen to meet someone, unaccompanied, of his own free will.

Another smile sprang to his face and this time, he didn't bother fighting it back.

* * *

The crowd thinned out around the fountain, keeping close to the stalls situated around the edge of the square, out of view of the direct sunlight beaming down on the small town that afternoon. Genesis was seriously overheating in the thick jumper, but he used this to his advantage, focussing on the heat and telling himself that was the real reason he was feeling so uncomfortable. It wasn't as though he was nervous about _this_.

Genesis came to a halt a few feet away, silently waiting for the other to notice him standing there. Sure enough, a few seconds later Angeal looked up, his metallic blue eyes widening in surprise as he scrambled to his feet, annoyed at himself for being caught unawares and left unable to greet his guest properly. Despite that, the younger boy couldn't quite believe that the other had turned up. He had hoped the other would, but was expecting him not to.

Angeal smiled brightly at Genesis, and in his mind's eye, the redhead saw great pearly wings explode from the boy's back, showering the surrounding area with white feathers. The angel bowed formally, sending ripples of blinding light across the wings.

"Hello." _Welcome princess. I'm glad you could make it._

Genesis paused for a moment, a soft, embarrassed little smile creeping onto his face.

A small voice inside him sneered at how mushy and girly he was being – but for the most part, this was ignored.

Remembering the dream from before, something stirred in Genesis. The angel had rescued him – _the princess_. It was _Angeal_. _He_ saved her…

_Thank you…_

"My name is Genesis."

A smile the likes of which the preteen had never seen before appeared on the younger boy's face. It made his heart beat a little faster, the sun seem that little bit brighter; its heat more intense.

"It's nice to see you again, Genesis."

_It's nice to see you too_, the redhead mused. His mouth remained shut.

In a small understated café tucked away in the shade, a man sat alone at his table; the drink he had ordered left untouched on its surface.

Anyone with any experience in matters such as those he was involved in could tell that he was not a citizen of the small town. His clothes looked too new, clean and expensive in comparison; his short dark hair had been cut too perfectly, as though done by someone professional. By general standards, this was indeed a poor disguise.

But the settlement was small; far from anywhere particularly noteworthy and the people here would suspect nothing of him.

This mission was relatively small scale compared with what he normally did, but the reward was simply too big for him and his accomplice to ignore. He had thought this would be over by the end of the day, the weekend at the latest; but he could see now that this was not the case.

Behind the dark tinted sunglasses, his gaze rested firmly on the boy in the red hooded jumper standing next to the fountain.

He watched as the boy's companion smiled brightly at the other; and used this apparent break in the conversation to look over the notes in the folder he had spread out in front of him.

Dark eyes scanned the pages thoroughly and settled on the picture he was looking for. The man glanced up at the child and then looked back down again, frowning as a rare flicker of confusion crossed his face.

He took out a standard issue cell phone from his pocket and pressed a single button that would automatically redial the first of the two numbers he had in the phonebook.

The dial tone cut off and he spoke before his accomplice even had a chance to greet him.

"Meet me at the café – something has come up."

* * *

Genesis winced as yet another civilian collided into the shoulder that had been bruised from the argument with his father two weeks ago. He hated the fact that his arms, wrists and hands seemed to take far long longer than normal to heal; his injured knuckles were still yet to recover from when he had punched that wagon just under a week ago – despite the large amounts of antiseptic and plasters that had been placed over it during that time.

This was in fact the main reason why he was only wearing one glove at the moment, the material would rub against the wounds too much and re-open the scabs. However, the hand that was gloved wasn't all that comfortable either.

Angeal was a couple of paces ahead of him, clasping the other's gloved hand in his own, using it to pull Genesis through the relentless crowds of people being herded down the one-way street in the opposite direction.

The redhead knew for a fact that if he didn't hold on, they would be separated – and Genesis would be left stranded in a large group of people in a section of the town he didn't recognise, but his hand was uncomfortably warm and sweaty inside his gloves thanks to the extra body heat and had started tingling for some unknown reason – he chose not to dwell on why.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed three times.

Two hours had passed since he had arrived in Banora and met up with Angeal, who had told him that their 'grand day out' would have to be altered slightly as his mother had asked him to go shopping for her; she had done something to her ankle the day before that now made walking any great distance very painful. The younger boy seemed very worried about the whole incident, though he hadn't said much to Genesis on the subject and the older boy hadn't pushed him to.

Angeal was a very compassionate person that seemed to feel the pain of those around him deeply – almost as though the damage had been inflicted upon himself. It was something that Genesis found strangely endearing if not a little dangerous.

Feeling other's pain too much could have disastrous consequences, he reasoned to himself, especially if the other person had so much wrong with their life that they were in fact beyond the reach of salvation, the possibility of freedom and protection no more than a distant memory, like something from a dream dreamt long ago.

Someone, for instance, like Genesis.

And it was at times like this the preteen couldn't help but stop and think; wonder at just what kind of affect someone as damaged as he was would have on a boy such as Angeal. The older boy flinched at the thought, the mere prospect that his presence could unknowingly drag the other down to his level. It was just so _wrong; _and the mayor's son couldn't help but feel truly _disgusted_ with himself.

Perhaps that was the true moral of a fairytale – the princess wasn't a damsel in distress after all; and her captors weren't the cruel and cold-hearted villains they seemed to be, but were in fact protectors – guardians - doing their best to separate the good people on the outside from the demon in disguise that dwelled within.

A creature that if left unguarded would poison, corrupt and warp the minds of unsuspecting citizens, decent caring people like Angeal.

_What if the princess wasn't meant to be saved or rescued at all?_

"Genesis?"

The older boy tensed slightly, drawn back from his musings by his new acquaintance. He stared at Angeal with an utterly lost expression, watching as a small frown marred the younger boy's face.

But what did this revelation mean in the grand scheme of things? The demon had already been freed from its restraints, already encountered other people and had even made a couple of - dare he say it - _friends_. Things had already been set in motion.

Surely there was another way? Perhaps there was an alternate end to the story – one where the demon could be somehow forgiven for all past sins and granted the one last chance start over.

"What's wrong?"

Angeal really did look concerned now as he tugged Genesis over to a secluded part of the roadside, his eyes scanning the other's face.

It then clicked somewhere in the preteen's mind that the younger boy was genuinely serious in his worry over his guest's wellbeing, and it made Genesis feel incredibly guilty and horrified at the same time.

An angel caring about a demon.

_This isn't meant to happen._

But surely even a monster could hope for redemption?

"I…"

Except there would be no 'redemption', no chance of freedom or salvation – his 'guardian angel' was a _10-year-old child_.

This was all in his head. The dark tower did not exist and neither did angels, demons or _princesses_. Life was not a fairytale, especially not his own.

His story was destined not to have a happy ending.

And just like that, the lost expression faded away into one of nonchalance; the barriers were closing once again.

"Nothing. There's nothing wrong."

Genesis looked up just in time to see something faint ghost over Angeal's face. And then it passed; the younger boy blinked as the words sunk in and his shoulders drooped.

"I understand." He mumbled quietly.

A wry little smirk appeared on Genesis' face. _No, you don't. You _really_ don't._

* * *

"..."

A young man with long black hair stared incredulously at the photo handed to him by his accomplice. The two strangers were sat at a table towards the back of a small cafe on the edge of Banora's town centre, hidden away in the shade. Across from the teenager holding the picture, his mentor sat with his legs crossed, drinking a bright red liquid from a glass.

He glanced over at the other, eyes covered by the dark-tinted sunglasses he wore.

"Do you believe me now?"

The teen looked back at the picture on the camera screen and then at the photograph of the Marsdens.

"No, but...Lumus, that's impossible. He _died_. _The kid died. _They shot him and everything!"

The one named Lumus smiled dryly and shook his head.

"The report stated: _'the target was critically injured, with five confirmed gunshot wounds to the torso and left arm. It fell to the ground in pain but managed to escape the onslaught by taking refuge in a heavily wooded area. There have been no sightings since the aforementioned incident and this, coupled with the massive blood loss caused by the wounds, leads us to suspect that the target was indeed eliminated -'_"

"_'-however, the primary target managed to escape unharmed, having rendered the six personnel sent to deal with him unconscious. Whether the two targets re-grouped at a later date is uncertain etc etc' _– yeah I know, I know." the younger man replied.

Lumus had insisted that his charge know the entire case study off by heart before they arrived in the small town. "But come on; it was a kid, he was only a little kid –"

"_NO._"

The teen winced at the harsh tone in his mentor's voice and fell silent. His gaze dropped to the table as he began stirring the straw around in the drink previously left untouched on the table in front of him, something he often did when he was nervous.

Lumus sighed and took off his sunglasses.

"You mustn't give targets identities. Names, ages, characteristics – that shouldn't even cross your mind during an assignment; and if it does, you're thinking about them too much. We're here to do a job; we complete it and then we leave – no-one here will ever have an impact on your life after this."

"I know." The teen muttered quietly.

"Try not to worry so much, Valinus. In a couple of days, it'll all be over and everything will return to the way it was." A rare smile appeared onto the assassin's face and his pupil felt his heart give a painful squeeze; the teenager thought his teacher had a beautiful smile.

But hearing Valinus' remarks caused many of Lumus' own doubts to surface once again. He'd never tell the other this, but all along he'd had the feeling that something wasn't quite right about this mission. The reward was far above that normally offered for such a small-scale operation; and the targets involved – the children.

The assassin had done his research before accepting the assignment – he was aware of who had attempted this job before him, what their reputations were like and where they had made crucial mistakes. A few of them had been renowned assassins, acquaintances of his, good at their profession - and yet so far all had failed.

Except for him. _He_ would be the one to succeed and collect the reward.

With that amount of money stated in the reward in his own possession, Lumus planned to quit his job and move far away; somewhere warm and close to the sea – perhaps he could get a part-time job as a diving instructor or something...

"So now what?"

The older man looked expectantly at his apprentice. Perhaps, if things went well, he could save Valinus as well – this was the wrong profession for the teen, he was far too kind-hearted and forgiving; and his mentor promised himself he would do everything in his power to make sure his pupil never became a cold-blooded murderer like himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Say this new kid is one of the targets after all – what does that mean for us?"

The older man sighed.

"It means we have two people to worry about instead of one."

He didn't say it, but the teen understood what his mentor was trying to say.

_If this kid got in the way, he'd be killed as well._

* * *

The two boys trundled along through the shaded alleyway in silence. The sun was getting lower in the sky and Genesis was aware of the fact that he needed to start thinking about heading back home sometime in the near future. After a quick trip to the bakery, Angeal had looked back at the shopping given to him and realised that they had now purchased everything that was required; and so, with each child weighed down by two large paper bags – one in each hand - they began the journey back to Angeal's house.

They had barely spoken since the incident earlier on, something Genesis had mixed feelings about, caught between being glad that any immediate plans for an interrogation seemed to have halted, but also knowing with a sickening certainty that Angeal could quite easily produce his own answers and explanations. Genesis was all too aware of just how observant the younger boy could be – and not knowing what the other was thinking about made him extremely anxious.

The only thing that helped soothe the redhead's nerves was the thought that even if Angeal somehow managed to figure it all out, Genesis was sure he would keep it to himself. Not that anything that went on in Genesis' life would be of any interest to the other boy anyway; though it would seriously warp and distort any positive feelings Angeal held towards him at present – feelings which, he noted in alarm, he had grown surprisingly protective of.

So Genesis vowed he would keep silent and deny any claims or theories the other may come up with; it would be the best solution for them both in the long term. The preteen subtly acknowledged the fact that this meant Angeal would, until further notice, have to be kept at arms length – something that would undoubtedly sadden and confuse him. The mayor's son felt an unexpected pang of guilt and a sudden feeling of isolation. If even Angeal would not be allowed to help him, did this mean Genesis would remain trapped forever?

It seemed when he tried to make things right, something always went wrong.

_How very depressing_, the redhead thought glumly.

A bell jingled lightly in the background and Genesis looked up to find himself standing in front of a small confectionary shop, a horrifically beautiful smell wafting past them as a customer left with an iced bun wrapped up in a napkin. Angeal's eyes met his own and Genesis smiled in answer to the others silent question. The dark haired boy smirked and pushed the door open with another merry little tinkle.

Their stomachs growled in protest at the displays of sweet treats laid out before them on a counter. Angeal cast his eyes over them appreciatively before asking the shopkeeper how much one of the blueberry muffins cost. Genesis had his eyes locked firmly on an apple and cinnamon muffin towards the back, standing all by its self, surrounded by crumbs and oil marks on the cheap paper underneath. His gaze drifted down to the price tag and he realised that he did in fact have enough money to buy it; though he was sure the price would be considered unreasonably high for a single muffin. _Tax increases_, he mused, and Genesis felt his appetite slip away as guilt and shame at being related to the town's mayor began to gnaw away at his stomach. He looked over at Angeal just in time to see the others dejected face gazing at a blueberry muffin with a resigned expression on his face.

"Shall we go?" Angeal then asked.

Genesis frowned. Misery was a face that didn't look good on Angeal.

"One minute, I want to buy something."

The younger boy nodded and headed outside to wait for him.

The other emerged a short time later, both paper shopping bags were now being held in one hand, the pastry bag getting the other hand all to itself. Angeal heard the sound of the bag rustling and felt a little annoyed that his guest was going to deliberately eat in front of him – until he saw the blueberry muffin being held out to him.

Metallic blue eyes stared at the other, who face was now hidden behind the hood of his big red jumper. _Why? _was the first question that formed in his head; but Angeal didn't ask, realising that the reason behind this wasn't all that important.

If anything, he felt slightly guilty and _alarmed_. He had seen the prices of those treats; they were ridiculously expensive...and yet he was being offered one as though it meant virtually nothing.

The realisation that he had managed to befriend someone possibly very wealthy (or very foolish) without him knowing, made him more weary of his guest than ever before; even more than when he discovered that the other had lied about his own identity.

Who _was_ this kid? Was he an aristocrat?

Genesis shrugged nonchalantly, his side profile and baggy hood hiding his face, and for a brief moment Angeal was scared he'd said his thoughts aloud.

"Thank you - for last week. I thought you might be hungry or something..."

The voice started off unconfident and got quieter and quieter so that Angeal had to strain to hear what was said. At least Genesis didn't see him as just another charity case, a grovelling beggar only hanging around him for his money; that was comforting. He accepted the muffin with a quiet 'thanks', still unsure of what to say. Perhaps his friend was a nice aristocrat, but one thing was now clear in his mind; he needed to find out just what it was he had gotten himself into.

They arrived at Angeal's house shortly afterwards, only to find it empty. His mother had left a note saying she was out because a friend had asked her to babysit her children, but would be back in a little while and that they should just leave the shopping bags in the house. It also greeted Genesis warmly, something he couldn't help but flush at, and told him to make sure Angeal didn't worry about her too much; something her son quietly snorted at. He sighed.

"In that case, shall we stay out a little longer?"

Genesis considered, stepping outside into the fading sunlight. It was getting late, but was sure he had time to spare.

Behind him, Angeal was frozen to the spot as realisation dawned on him, with all the force of a physical slap to the face. He stared transfixed at his friend, who stood in the fading sunlight; the red hood pushed back to reveal his face – the same face Angeal had seen in the Rhapsodos' mansion two weeks ago. The phantom child in the window - it was Genesis.

"Angeal?"

Of course – it all made sense now; Scott worked in the estate as a cook, that must have been how they met. But that had to mean Genesis spent a lot of time in the Rhapsodos' household if they had seen each other often enough to become friends. Angeal somehow doubted that their paths would have crossed at all if that was not the case, house staff were generally seen as inferior to those in the upper classes, and as such the two groups normally kept to themselves whenever possible...

Angeal looked back up at the older boy and stilled at the expression on his face. Genesis looked worried, no,_ terrified_. His friend truly was awful at hiding his emotions, though Angeal had to admit that that just made the other all the more interesting.

But, it was only now dawning on Angeal that by befriending Genesis, he may have stumbled into something far beyond his expectations, and concluded therefore that if he was to solve this dilemma – he needed more answers from Genesis.

"Yeah, let's stay outside for while."

* * *

The market day was all but over. Stall-owners were packing away their unsold produce and taking down their stands, though a few people still wandered around, looking for last minute deals. For Genesis, his little outing in Banora with Angeal was also coming to an end. He took another bite out of the muffin he bought earlier.

It seemed fitting somehow that the journey today would end where it began: by the fountain in the town's centre. The soft sound of the trickling water behind them was soothing somehow, an effect emphasised by the warm golden hue of the setting sky and Genesis found himself wishing he could stay longer; it was peaceful here, though the atmosphere was far from perfect.

He glanced briefly at Angeal who sat a short distance away, his body hunched over ever so slightly, a small scowl portrayed on his face as he stared blankly at a patch of dirt in front of him. He was _thinking_ again, Genesis had grown to hate it when Angeal _thought _about something, it usually resulted in being asked a horde of personal question he'd rather not answer. Normally, the mayor's son would just attempt to lie his way out of it, but truth be told, he just didn't have the energy for that today.

They were coming though, the questions, Genesis could see them approaching on the horizon, and he knew with a sick certainty that this interrogation would be even worse than last one. He had seen that look on Angeal's face outside his house, the partially stunned look that came with the aftermath of an epiphany and realised that this game of cat and mouse had suddenly been taken to a whole new level.

The clock tower chimed twice and Genesis froze, it was half past six. He frowned; his father was due back at seven o clock, he had to leave soon if he was to be back at home in time.

"Tell me about yourself, Genesis."

The older boy looked at Angeal in confusion, a slow crushing dread seeping in as he realised what this meant – the storm had arrived, and at what was arguably one of the worst moments possible. He was tired, confused and scared. A dull heavy ache began to pound in the back of his head. Outright lying wasn't an option today.

"I live in the outskirts of Banora, so you were wrong when you said last week was my first time here; but I'd never been in the town centre by myself." Genesis cringed at how that made him sound, like a small child that needed their hand holding or something.

"What about your parents?"

The redhead considered.

"I...haven't seen my real father since I was six." Which was in a way true, Genesis mused. His father had always been exceptionally cold towards him, but it had at least been bearable, until he was elected as Banora's mayor; that had been the day everything had changed.

"My mother and I have never really spoken to each other, even less so since my father disappeared." At least when Genesis was small his mother would talk to him directly instead of through servants.

Angeal frowned deeply in thought. How did Genesis end up in the Rhapsodos' mansion then?

"Have you lived here long?"

Genesis smiled grimly, "Ever since my father went away."

"How comes no-one ever sees you then?"

"My mother and my step-father don't like me going outside..."

_Step father? Nice little touch there_, he thought.

Angeal smiled sadly. _Overprotective parents_, he concluded.

"What's your last name? If you don't mind me asking..." He was genuinely curious now.

Genesis' mind ground to a halt. This, he had _NOT _seen coming.

"...Cartwright." His mother's maiden name.

Genesis _Cartwright?_

The preteen nearly groaned aloud, that name didn't sound right _at all_. Damn his parents for giving him such an unusual name...

Angeal blinked hard. It seemed even _he_ found it slightly strange. He'd never heard the name 'Cartwright' around here before; then again Genesis did say he lived away from the town's centre. Perhaps he knew Scott from outside of work...that was an interesting thought.

But it still didn't answer his main question. Angeal had _seen Genesis_ through the window that day, there was no denying it, despite the fact he had been dressed different. His friend had been upset then, angry even, glaring heatedly at something (or _someone_) down the corridor as he spat something into his hand and walked off. Angeal still got the feeling he was missing something important...

"Genesis, do you know the Rhapsodos' family?"

The older boy's heart thunked loudly against his ribcage. _Uh-oh..._

_What to say, what to say..._

"We're related. The mayor is my,"

_FATHER._

"uncle."

Angeal nodded solemnly, thoughtful look on his face.

"Is that why you never told me who you were? Because you were ashamed to be related to the mayor?"

Genesis nodded. That wasn't a lie.

Angeal smiled wryly.

"That's not too bad, Genesis. I mean, you can't help who your family are. I don't think people will care all that much, you're not _too_ closely related to him or anything – if you were his son, then that would be a different matter altogether."

The mayor's son tensed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, people here hate your uncle, that's undeniable, but that's mostly because we're all scared of him. He's the one in charge, so he can decide how pleasant or not our lives can be.

"If he had a son, everyone would expect him to be a spitting image of his father; and seeing as how people here are allowed to become mayor at sixteen, we fear that as soon as this mayor loses in an election –"

"-his son would be there to take over from him and everything would go around in circles."

Angeal nodded.

Genesis sighed in exasperation upon realising he had all but sealed his own fate. There was no way Angeal could _ever_ be allowed to find out who he truly was...

Everything that they had from now onwards would be based on _a lie_.

Angeal completely misinterpreted the sigh.

"I know, that's just them being really paranoid, but we can't really blame them. This mayor is seen as some sort of monster by the townspeople and if there were to be a copy of him, ready to take his place as soon as he left – I don't think the town would survive it."

"Do you think they have got a child, but just kept it a secret?"

The younger boy considered it. "Perhaps. I'd feel awfully sorry for the kid though."

"Really?"

"Being brought up in that place with only the mayor and his wife for company, cut off from the rest of the world your entire life, only to be introduced as the most hated person in the region? Yeah, I'd feel sorry for them. Wouldn't you?"

Genesis' gaze slid to the ground.

"Yes, I suppose I would."

The conversation seemed to die with that last statement, leaving the boys sat side by side in silence, eating their treats silently as they became lost in their own thoughts. When at last the quarter to seven bell chimed, Genesis got up and announced that it was time he made his way back home. Angeal had offered to take him back home, but the older boy instantly rejected the idea, telling the other that his parents were not aware he had even left the building – one of the few completely honest statements he had said all day. Genesis turned and left the courtyard, feeling inexplicably dejected and unhappy. He needed to get out, get away from everything, including Angeal, as fast as he possible could. His footsteps quickened and suddenly Genesis Rhapsodos was fleeing Banora as though a wild animal were at his heels.

Angeal watched his friend's exit with a resigned bewilderment, wondering just what it was he had done to make the other so upset.

* * *

As his feet pounded against the dirt of estate's driveway, Genesis found himself reminded of the time he and Scott had all but raced the mayor's car back to the estate and snuck back into the mansion just in time to make everything seem alright.

_Damn it! _Scott! Genesis had told himself he would visit the teen on his way back from Banora today. Not that Scott would be too happy about seeing the other in this state: exhausted, depressed and on the brink of crying. All because of that one comment. This was _all Angeal's fault_!

_"Being brought up in that place with only the mayor and his wife for company, cut off from the rest of the world your entire life, only to be introduced as the most hated person in the region? Yeah, I'd feel sorry for them. Wouldn't you?"_

The preteen snarled at the voice echoing around his head, fists clenched as he surged forward towards the house. Angeal felt sorry for him. Felt _sorry_ for him?! Why on earth did he feel that way? Sorrow wouldn't change a damn thing!

Even Angeal, the _angel_, pitied him. Genesis didn't want his pity! He wanted his companionship.

Was it so hard, _so much_ to ask for _one_ person that didn't either hate or pity him?!

He pulled open his bedroom window and slammed it back down again, not at all caring if someone heard and decided to investigate – it made him feel better. Genesis felt his knees buckle in despair as he sunk to the floor and openly wept for everything that had happened in the past week, for Scott, his parents, Angeal and for _himself_. Realising what was going on, something inside him roared in fury at this display of weakness. The mayor's son hurriedly wiped his face with the sleeve of Scott's jumper, rubbing his eyes unnecessarily hard with his still clenched fists. His face felt as though it were burning and had gone all tingly in a way completely different to that he had felt earlier when Angeal was holding his hand.

Genesis seethed at the other's name and dug his fingernails into the carpet, tearing angry lines into the fabric, though it still remained unharmed.

He took a few deep breaths and felt the anger subside a little. The clock on his table helpfully reminded him that his father would be due back any minute. A dark little smirk rose to his face as he rose and stripped off Scott's jumper, shoving it under his bed so that the cleaners would not find it and start asking questions.

The strange tingly sensation had spread throughout his entire body and it was making him feel a little jumpy. He refused to face anyone like this, especially the mayor.

Heading into the bathroom, Genesis stripped off and stepped into a shower cubicle, more for the sake of feeling hot water around him than his actually wanting a shower. Water tended to calm him down a little for some reason. As he stood underneath the hot spray and felt the liquid running down his back, he could literally feel the tension and the anger wash off his body and down the sink. His muscles began to relax and an eerie little smile melted onto Genesis' face.

Angeal _pities me. Ha! Damned kid can't even buy a _muffin_! What the hell does _he_ know?_

Genesis chuckled quietly to himself, in a tone that sounded nothing that of his own voice. As the laughter faded, he felt a satisfied grin remain plastered on his face.

Had he stopped to look in the mirror directly opposite the cubicle, Genesis would have realised that he'd seen that exact same grin somewhere before, his father had been wearing that same expression the day he broke his son's wrist for smashing the car windshield.

* * *

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Even flames - they're funny and make me laugh.**


	8. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey hey! Sorry it's been such a long time - GCSE exams/preparations been stealing pretty much all my free time lately...but yet here we are ^^. Due to said exams approaching SCARILY fast - please do not eat me if updates are extra slow in the next few months - I promise I'll make up for it during the summer - I refuse to touch another textbook until the holidays are over ¬_¬. **

**Back to the story: THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT. I haven't been having the best of time lately, for various different reasons - and your reviews and alerts etc have all helped. Extra big squishy thanks for Cookie for betaing ^^.**

**Right - important notice for this chapter: this chapter starts off about FOUR MONTHS before the first chapter of Mesmerize - we're following Scott's story from when he first met Genesis - hoping to try answer a few unanswered questions about him, as he's decided to take some time off after the chapter following this one. The timescale progresses forwards throughout the chapter - so that by the end of the chapter, we're back to the week AFTER Angeal and Genesis met up in Banora (the ending of the last chapter).**

**ALSO: If there are certain parts of this chapter that don't fit with the rest of the storyline so far - don't worry. Between last chapter and this one, me and Cookie have gone over and sorted out pretty much all inconsistencies this story has - which means the plot line has been altered slightly. Not too much mind you, but still. So after we get to the halfway point of this fic - end of chapter 10 (?), I'm going to go back over and check everything. Yeah, I'm guessing in total - Mesmerize will have somewhere in the region of 20 chapters...**

**Once again: I get the feeling I've forgotten to say something. Gah. Ah well. I'll shut up and let you read now ^^'.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing other than the plotline, Scott and the Marsdens.**

**Enjoy! **

**-M.M-**

* * *

Directly underneath the guest room, the young man paused briefly as he heard the light tingling of the bell as the mayor called for attention. He sighed loudly and refocused his attention on the small mirror stuck to the wall of the food storage room. The glass itself was smudged and there were small dots of something green and opaque dotted around the corners which only succeeded in obscuring his reflection even more.

Scott Marsden was in general quite a calm, laid back person, the type who rarely ever seemed troubled by anything, but today seemed to be the exception.

His hands dropped to the half mangled excuse for a tie draped around his neck and growled in frustration. Deciding he'd spent more than enough time on the damned strip of material, the teen yanked it over his head, managing to get it knotted in the process. He eventually succeeded in wrestling it off, not before he'd almost choked himself with it first, throwing it to the floor in disgust and taking a look at himself in what he could see of the mirror.

Scott's face no longer surprised him like it used to, but he was still slightly wary of the no-longer hollow cheekbones, the absence of the dark circles under his eyes, eyes that seemed somehow brighter and had an almost mischievous glint now,_ that_ hadn't been there before. They were green, he noted, not black after all as he had previously thought, but a very deep shade of green – forest green, woodsy green. The revelation brought a smile to his face and Scott blinked in surprise at the reflection that beamed back through the surface of the mirror. There was colour in his cheeks now, his skin didn't look pasty and blotchy as it had before. He looked better than he had done in months, _years_...

Surely it hadn't been that long already?

_Yes_, the teen realised suddenly, it really _had _been two years since the fire...

"And just look at me now," he mused aloud.

What would his parents think of him now? Would they be proud of the person he was turning into? Proud that he had managed to keep both himself and his little brother in the clear for almost eighteen months?

And what of Jem? Was he with them now? Did he and his parents hate him for failing in his duty to protect his little brother, to protect all of them?

Though the nightmares were not as regular as they used to be, Scott could remember the night it had all began as though it had happened barely a week ago – the rough faded path that led from the town, over the hill and down to the bay where his home had been perched, the uncomfortable feeling of their grocery bag handles rubbing against the already sore palms of his hands, how he had taken one of Jem's bags as well since the then ten-year-old was having trouble carrying his share up the hill, the way he had instinctively _known_ something was wrong when he saw the orange glow from the hilltop, a stark contrast to the night sky and had dropped the bags at once so that he could run up the steep slope, the way he had frozen to the spot as the flames engulfed his home, the bright yellows, reds and golds that rolled over the building he had once called home, the structure almost non-existent as the fire devoured it entirely, how the heat licked the side of his face even though the house was over a hundred metres away. And then there was that scream - the agonised wail of despair that tore from his throat as he'd crumpled to the ground, realised that his parent's worst fear had become reality, and what this meant for he and his little brother...

Four loud knocks on the door startled him out of his reverie and Scott cringed at the way his hand automatically went to his jacket pocket - that was normally where his switchblade was.

"Scott, come on - the speech's started, you're needed out here. _Now_."

The teen sneered lightly at the commanding tone in his superior's voice and looked back in the mirror one last time. He groaned. His hair was still mussed up from when he'd been fighting with the tie earlier and now all the colour seemed to have drained from his face, a cold sweat across his brow.

All in all, he looked like he'd just been molested by a ghost.

Fighting back a curse, the teen quickly combed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten it down, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and tugged on the bottom of his shirt once more before taking a deep breath, retrieving the crumpled tie and leaving the storage room quietly, the door closing with a soft little click as the room fell silent once again.

Though the old maids had cooed over how handsome and grown up he looked, Scott agreed wholeheartedly that he would _never_ wear a black tuxedo ever again after today had ended, unless ordered to change into one at gunpoint. He had been very grateful to Dorris in particular for letting him borrow her youngest nephew's unworn suit (Scott hadn't had anything formal to wear for today, and neither had Reese, his blacksmith 'uncle') and had quite naturally been very pleased with the fact it was a perfect fit, but the material was awfully itchy and stiff from disuse. It was the middle of June and he was wearing _black_ of all colours. The fabric was awfully un-breathable and stuffy as well (the teen had no idea tuxedo jackets were so thick), and he'd had to take a break a couple of times just to cool himself down a bit – right now was one such time.

Scott turned into the next corner and all but collapsed on the floor with a dramatic sigh. He was getting fed up of waiting on the orders of middle aged aristocrats, opting to stall for more time whilst he wandered around the house, choosing the long way back to the kitchens. Put simply, Scott was a waiter for today, nothing glamorous, but it beat staying in the kitchens and working all day.

Apparently, Mr Rhapsodos was throwing some kind of party to celebrate his becoming mayor of Banora once again, having managed to win the recent election with a landslide victory, odd seeing as no-one in the town liked him. Anyone who was anyone from the surrounding towns and counties had been invited – there were apparently over a hundred people to feed and most of the catering staff had been up since some ridiculous time in the morning preparing everything for today. Scott had only gotten this job three months ago, but he knew everyone was counting on him to act the part and look as though he knew what he was doing, not that it was that difficult anyway.

Nothing seemed to go wrong to start off with, everyone was still merry and uplifted thanks to another one of the mayor's motivational, congratulatory speeches – personally, Scott despised politicians, especially corrupt big-headed ones, like many of those invited, but kept quiet.

He hadn't liked the looks he had received from a few of them whilst he had been on duty. Disdain and disgust he could handle, but the predatory gleam in their eyes had unnerved and angered him, especially when that one man had not-so-casually trailed his hand over his thigh as the teen had been setting the man's food down on the table. It had taken all of Scott's self control to stop himself reaching into his jacket pocket for the switchblade.

It wasn't so much the fact it had been a _man_ that had disturbed him, more the fact that this man was _easily _old enough to be his father, perhaps even his_ grandfather,_ and the fact that _his wife_ had sat next to him, fully aware of what was going on – and yet completely ignored it! The teen hadn't bothered to hide the scowl on his face as he finished his job quickly and left the room.

The corridor the teen occupied now was deserted, as seemed to be the norm for this part of the mansion. Was this the mayor's private quarters or something? If so, he'd have some serious explaining to do, unless of course he just lied and said he'd gotten lost or something, but either way he'd end up drawing unnecessary attention to himself, which was something he was loathe to do – old habits took a while to wear off apparently.

The teen shrugged off his jacket and kicked his shoes off, feeling a little guilty and rebellious for acting so informally in his employer's house whilst he wandered around his house without permission, but as he loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, Scott decided the euphoric feeling of being able to breathe properly again far outweighed the risk of being caught wandering around here during his break; he had never really been one to follow the rules anyway. Besides, it wasn't like the mayor and his wife had anything to _hide_ back here anyway...

A loud tapping noise in the distance signalled the approach of another and Scott's senses were instantly put on high alert. His head whipped around to face the direction of the footsteps, and he quickly scanned for places to hide. The newcomer's silhouette loomed down the corridor and the teen felt the first tendril of fear he'd felt in months, it wasn't a good feeling.

He scooped up his shoes, jacket and moved, just before a tall figure strode past. Scott's eyes widened. It was Mayor Rhapsodos.

A lump lodged itself in the teen's throat, he was still in the lion's den and the beast had returned home. It was time for him to leave, _now_. He watched as the mayor proceeded past him and down the corridor, only to pause at the junction as though hesitating. His boss glanced down the right hand passage as though distracted by something before turning and walking away in the opposite direction.

Scott _should_ have left then, should have forgotten what he'd just seen and decided it was none of his business. But it was that _look_, that brief hesitation that kept him from leaving – there was something _more _at workhere and he _wanted _to find out what it was because, damn it, he was _curious_. Scott's curiosity was both his greatest strength and weakness, responsible for saving him from and landing him in so much trouble over the years he'd given up trying to fight it. And for some reason, this _felt_ important. _I'll only be a minute._

After reaching the end of the corridor, the teen peered around the corners anxiously checking the coast was clear before scampering down the right hand passage. It seemed no different from any other corridor he'd been down and for a moment, Scott found himself wondering if he'd misinterpreted that pause when he heard a voice from one of the rooms.

Sucking in a quick breath at the sound, he urged himself forwards, alarm bells wailing inside in his head, telling him this was _not_ a good idea. The teen halted briefly as the voice grew closer and spotted the partially open door a few metres ahead. This was the room the sound was coming from, though he didn't recognise the speaker...or the quiet little mumble that followed. Voice_s_ then. Was this some sort of secret meeting? The words became clearer as he edged ever closer, so too did the voices themselves. The main speaker was a man, quite old possibly, with a nasally yet commanding voice listing instructions on how to do...something. The second was much quieter, younger, the tone soft and gentle and only ever heard in response to a question asked by the first voice.

Silence fell across the room, save for a faint scratching noise Scott identified as a pencil scribbling on paper. There was a loud whack, and the writing abruptly ceased.

"Pay attention, Genesis!"

_Genesis?_ He had never heard that name mentioned before in the Rhapsodos' household...

Intrigued, Scott took a step forward and peered through the doorway, not prepared for the sunlight that afternoon sun shone through the wall-length adjacent windows. He threw a hand up to cover his eyes and in doing so got a better view of what was going on inside.

The room itself seemed to be a library of some sorts, bookcases lined the walls, though he couldn't see how large the room was without opening the door and therefore revealing himself.

A large, deeply ornate table stood proudly in the middle of the room, its majesty and craftsmanship making it stand out in the otherwise plain surroundings, and seated at the table directly in his line of view was...a _child_. A boy, Scott assumed, though he could have been mistaken, with longer than shoulder length hair that seemed glow a radiant shade of bronze, the lighting making him appear somehow ethereal, supernatural. The hair was actually quite long for a boy, perhaps the child was female after all, their limbs were thin and delicate like a girl's, but yet they seemed too pale and fragile to be human, as though they would crumble away into dust if handled too roughly. The child in question looked up, as though somehow sensing the other's presence, and Scott almost stumbled backwards with shock. Their eyes – they were so _blue_. So bright, and yet there was a sadness, a sense of understanding and resignation not natural in a child this age.

He had seen eyes like those before on another, not too long ago, had watched as they drowned in unimaginable pain, their hands gripped their bullet-ridden body in a half-hearted attempt to stop the bleeding, wept openly in agony, fear and sorrow as they faded, became dull, lifeless... _Jem?_

"_Scott, do you believe in life after death?"_

_The elder brother sighed, weary of where this conversation was going – he didn't like discussing death with Jem, it seemed too morbid a subject for an 11 year old to talk about, but then they had both grown up a lot in the past few months._

_It had been almost a year now since the night their house burnt down, a year since they had officially become fugitives. Scott remembered the instructions he had been given by his parents the evening before they passed away; stating what he should do in the event of their death, where they should go, how they should get there...of course with this knowledge came the realisation that they had obviously known that their death was a very likely possibility at that point in time._

_But it would seem that even his parents had underestimated their foes, as they had also clocked onto their plan and were now one step ahead of them – making sure they had people there watching for them at every checkpoint they passed, taking known family acquaintances in those areas away for 'questioning'. He and Jem were completely alone in the world, forced to take a long and complicated route to their final destination – assuming of course that they weren't going to be beaten there as well. Scott had told himself not think of that – they just had to make it there, there had to be an end to all this..._

_So no, Scott didn't believe in a life after someone returned to the Lifestream – choosing to believe that were that case, their parents would have at least made some attempt to try and help them. But he decided to humour his brother anyway._

"_Yes, why do you ask?"_

_Jem lay on his back as he gazed up at the stars on that cool summer's evening, contemplating his answer._

"_If life goes on even after your body has died, then surely that means you would just appear in someone else after death and carry on living life as normal, right?"_

_Scott resisted the urge to snort at his brother's statement. No-one could just completely take over someone's body and carry on as though nothing had happened. There were stories of some people who were able to form a sort of connection with a living person who resembled them in some way – but their deaths were always very violent or messy. His parents had known they were going to die and had pretty much resigned themselves to that fate. Scott doubted they'd have bothered fighting against it. _

"_Something like that."_

_The younger boy turned onto his side to face the other, who lay a couple of feet away also stargazing._

"_So that means we can still find Mum and Dad out there as well, just as if anything happens to either of us, we can find each other again, too!" Jem beamed, satisfied that with his conclusion, thinking about what his parents could possible look like now, whilst his brother lay motionless on the ground next to him, an infinitely sad frown on his otherwise blank face._

_**Jem, I've found you...**_

Scott looked once more at Genesis' face, suddenly confused by the expression of horror and fear he found there. Just as he was about to speak, something happened.

"Can I help you, young man?"

A loud, eerily calm voice sounded from behind him, _unnervingly_ close behind him and the teen turned slowly to face the stony expression of Mayor Rhapsodos as he glared down at him, dark irises boring painfully into his own. Something about this man made Scott instinctively fear and dislike him – perhaps because he had a reputation for being particularly cold and ruthless, even as politicians went and was exceedingly powerful around here. If he _ever_ found out about just who he was, and why he was in Banora in the first place, the mayor could quite easily destroy him and lay to waste all the effort spent since the death of his parents.

This was a dangerous man, Scott knew it and Jem - _Genesis -_ knew it too if that look was anything to go by, but at the same time was a politician – greedy, selfish and vindictive. And the teenager would be damned if he was going to let someone like _this_ ruin him.

"I was told to find you at once, sir." He put on his flustered, terrified expression and voice, the look of a rookie _knowing_ he'd just been caught red-handed. Yes, he had been caught, but that didn't make him clueless to the situation – just meant he'd have to think a little quicker on his feet.

"For what reason?"

"The kitchens are running low on alcohol, sir." It would have to do for now.

The mayor stared passively at the waiter for a few brief seconds, before seeming to come to some sort of decision. "Very well, follow me then."

"Thank you, sir."

Mr Rhapsodos turned back the way he came and started off, leaving Scott to steal one last glance at Genesis, before following his boss down to the cellar.

* * *

It wasn't until another week or two had passed since the re-election party that Scott stumbled across an opportunity to find out more about Genesis.

He had offered to stay behind for a few minutes after his shift had ended to help Graham, the eldest and most experienced cook working in the mansion. He had difficulty walking nowadays and so often needed help getting supplies from those around him, but nevertheless got on with the job well enough afterwards.

Graham had in fact been working in the Rhapsodos' household even before the mayor moved back in with his wife over a decade ago, so if anyone other than them could tell the teenager about Genesis, it would be the cook.

Since the child was not exactly a popular topic of discussion, Scott had prepared himself for a negative or hostile reply in answer to any questions. He hadn't missed the last paragraph of the working contract that stated 'if an employee sees or discovers anything about the personal life of Mr and/or Mrs Rhapsodos, it must remain secret under all circumstances; failure to obey this command will result in face severe consequences'. Making a sworn enemy out of the most powerful family in the area was not something the teen planned on doing if he could possible help it, he had too much to lose.

But the old cook's reaction wasn't what he had expected. The man, who had at the time been crushing garlic using a rolling pin, stopped abruptly, not looking up at the teen's face.

"Where did you hear that name, boy?" His voice was quiet, slightly apprehensive and a little...sad.

"I overheard one of the guests at the party mention him." The redhead shrugged, resisting the urge to smirk. He'd forgotten how convincing a liar he was. "Apparently we look alike."

Graham gave a quiet little 'hmph' before glancing up at Scott himself.

"Most likely the hair to be honest, not often you find a child around here with hair that shade, yet anyone who knew what he looked like wouldn't dare speak of such a matter so openly in front of house-staff - they should count themselves lucky no-one realised, people have been taken out for matters less important."

Dark red wasn't even his natural hair colour, he'd only started dying it this colour since his arrival in Banora to alter his appearance, but still, people had been _'taken out'_?Scott blinked in surprise, it only now sinking in just how crucial it must be to his boss that this Genesis remained a secret.

"But who is he? Why is he staying here in the mansion?"

A sour smile bubbled to the surface of Graham's face. He paused for a while be continuing.

"I won't tell you what his relationship is to them, but I will say that he is here because he must be and because he has nowhere else to go. The mayor, his wife and this house are all that he knows. Some could argue he isn't even a part of that."

The last sentence came out so quietly he'd almost missed it, and in the years to come, Scott would think back on that and wonder whether that drop in volume had been deliberate, something he wasn't meant to have heard. So when Scott asked Graham to evaluate, he wasn't at all surprised the other gave no reply. He understood now, as the old cook had secretly hoped he would, that this particular door was locked and would remain so until they were all ready to know the truth.

* * *

The teen crossed paths with the mysterious boy again a couple of months later, just as he was leaving for the forge after a hard day's work. Genesis was standing around the side of the building, when a voice called from behind him, it belonged to another member of the staff Scott had only recalled seeing a couple of times before and never really paid much attention to.

"Time to go indoors, Master Genesis."

The child suddenly looked severely distressed.

"But -"

"Come now, there's no use arguing. This is all for your health and wellbeing."

Health and wellbeing that hadn't been well looked after, Scott mused as he sneered at Genesis' 'caretaker', giving the boy a quick once over; he looked even thinner and paler than he had on the day of the party. What on earth were they doing to this child?

On second thoughts, the teen decided he'd rather not know the details.

Genesis struggled on regardless. "But –"

The distant, patronising tone in his 'caretaker's' voice suddenly evaporated as his lips thinned, eyes narrowing to slits

"_Boy_, if you do not obey, I shall be _forced_ to inform your father of this. He will make sure you do not venture outside again for another two months at least."

_Father...? No... it wasn't possible... _

Scott heard the preteen sigh and trail back dejectedly into the mansion through the side door, his supervisor following soon afterwards, whilst Scott stared in dazedly at the spot Genesis had previously occupied.

The mayor had a _child_...? But then why had almost no-one heard about him?

Surely, Genesis would be expected to carry on his father's legacy after his own reign as mayor ended...the mayor should be _proud _of him. But it would seem as though his boss considered his own child a mistake. The mayor was _ashamed_ of him – _that's_ why he was hiding him away, why Genesis himself seemed frightened of his own father...but _why go to so much trouble?_

The teen tried to wrap his mind out this entirely new concept as question after question appeared in his head, and failed. It just would not sink in. He was still in shock, not even able to form coherent thoughts to sum up what his feelings were on the matter; but yet it all made a sick kind of sense now that he thought about it.

_Of course_ Genesis couldn't leave, Graham wasn't lying when he said there was nowhere for the boy to go; he was barely allowed out of the house as it was! And it figured that the mayor would keep this strictly confidential – who would support a man who talks of free education for children, but seems to ignore and resent his only child so much?

Perhaps it was only by keeping Genesis a secret that he was still in power...

Scott felt a sudden surge of hatred well up in his chest, for once not caring whether or not his face had turned as red as his hair. Something _had_ to be done. He _had to_ help Genesis – Scott owed it to both of Jem and Genesis as well as himself. There was no way Mr Rhapsodos would be allowed to get away with this, with hurting both of them at once...

_With a savage growl, the knight slid on his visored helmet and galloped away from the dark tower. He _would_ be back to rescue the princess. He _would_ manage to save her somehow._

_Even if it meant putting his own life in jeopardy to do it._

* * *

When he had seen Genesis sprint down the main staircase that led to the front door that afternoon many weeks later, Scott was sure someone was smiling down on him, amazed that after all that time spent thinking of how to introduce himself to the boy, the other had quite literally run out in front of him all by himself! A perfect opportunity if ever he saw one, though he was a little puzzled at first by the preteen's staring at the doorknob, arm frozen in midair as though paralysed.

They had started a conversation and the older boy couldn't help but be amused by the other's 'frightened and wounded animal' tactic - he wasn't scaring anyone by acting all cold and formal, only succeeding in making himself seem rather cute truth be told. Genesis' face hadn't changed much since the celebration over three months ago, though his hair had been cut back to just above shoulder-length, which made him seem not _quite_ so effeminate.

Those big blue eyes were still there, too, and he kept having to remind himself just who it was he was talking to, although Jem had never gotten this touchy and defensive when teased about little things. But then Genesis went and hesitated when asked whether or not he was allowed outside, and that was when Scott made his move.

He'd thought perhaps he'd gone just a little overboard, Genesis had looked mildly scared whilst listening to the elder boy talk, but Scott had needed to get that all out in the open, convince Genesis that he _was_ taking this seriously, that he could trust him...

Taking the mayor's son back to Reese's house had been another _huge_ risk and in some ways having the blacksmith find out about his companion was worse than being discovered by the mayor. Scott hadn't yet told his 'uncle' about his connection to Genesis and wasn't really planning to unless absolutely necessary.

It was vital that the mayor's son changed out of his original clothes however. Scott was no fashion critic, but he knew what the townspeople thought of those in the upper classes and realised Genesis would be chewed up and spat back out again if he didn't watch his step. He'd managed to fish some things out of his wardrobe that might fit the preteen and hadn't realised until the other had changed that they had all belonged to Jem.

That had been an unpleasant shock, especially since Scott hadn't even looked at them since unpacking nine months beforehand (he hadn't been able to bring himself to).

Almost as bad as the one he'd gotten when he'd glimpsed a series of ugly looking cuts and bruises decorating Genesis' arms. He was going to say something, until he noticed that the younger redhead was trying his hardest not to long him in the face. _No, it was still too soon._

He'd ask about them another time.

Everything seemed to level itself out over the next week. Scott only worked part time as a cook, the rest of his time was spent with Reese in his workshop, but he'd promised to take Genesis out again at the next convenient time. Genesis never spoke much on the way to and from Banora, but Scott never minded, he could tell the other really appreciated being able to see his hometown without his parent's company and every smile and grin the teen received for his efforts was payment enough. More than enough.

The next time he and Genesis had ventured into Banora, the younger boy seemed happier which in turn improves Scott's mood as well, though, dear Goddess, did both Genesis and Jem _have_ to have the same smile as well? Actually, no, his brother's eyes had never twinkled when he smiled.

It was unfortunate he stumbled across an old acquaintance whilst the younger boy was with him and had ended up calling him 'Jem' by accident. Even Genesis seemed to think that name strange, as though shocked the elder boy would call him that. Did he know who Jem was? How? Scott hadn't mentioned anything -

The picture. Back at Reese's house, there had been a picture of himself and Jem taken a couple of months before the fire – before Scott 'Marsden' had ever truly existed. He missed those times. He missed them all...

So, he really_ hadn't_ been imagining things when he'd thought it had moved during the time Genesis had been in Reese's house...

The teen was surprised to acknowledge that he wasn't angry or annoyed with Genesis for going through his stuff, it was only natural after all. But yet, he still felt decidedly uncomfortable and a little upset about it – that picture was private. His past was _his own_ story to tell.

"_Scott?"_

That settled it then. He _definitely_ hadn't told Genesis his name. But Scott couldn't find it within himself to feel upset or disappointed about it, he just felt tired – exhausted.

"_If you want to leave so badly, why are you here?"_

And despite everything, Scott had smiled a true genuine smile.

That question was one of the very few he actually had an answer for.

Everyone he had ever cared about from his life before 'Scott Marsden' was dead. His parents, his little brother, even people he and Jem had encountered on the way to Banora. Sure, there was Reese and his son Alexander, but they were different – they weren't truly family or even friends, just nice people who were giving him a place to catch his breath after eighteen months of non-stop fear, paranoia and nightmares that would make grown men weep. That's all Banora was in the end – a pit-stop; even his parents had told him that the night before they'd died...

However, Genesis was different. Perhaps it was because he was almost like another Jem - one that was still alive, one that still needed protection from those that would do him harm. Maybe if he saved this child, it would somehow cancel out his failure with his own brother. Would he be forgiven then? Maybe, maybe not – but it was worth a shot anyway. They were _both_ worth an attempt at least.

"_- some things…are worth sacrificing everything for."_

Genesis had ran off in the direction of the old bookshop not long afterwards and Scott wasn't in the least bit surprised that the preteen was a closet bookworm, but the other's enthusiasm made him smile anyway. As the teen started to follow him inside, a young voice called his name from outside. A small child with short dark hair and a scar across his left cheek squeezed through in between the gaps between the steady flow of people progressing down the street.

"Mr Marsden's looking for you."

The teen took a second to mentally scoff at the honorific before telling the child that 'Mr Marsden' was well aware it was his day off and that he was currently busy. But the child would not let him leave.

"Please, he said I had to find you and tell you to find him at once. He says it's urgent." Scott frowned, dread beginning to wrap itself around his heart. What could be so urgent?

"Did he give you a message?"

"Yes, he said to tell you 'They are coming'. He'd said you'd understand."

Scott felt his heart give a dangerous lurch upwards, only to snagged by the thorned vines now coiled around it. The sensation made him want to wretch. Oh, he understood alright.

But how? He'd been so sure they'd given up after nine months. He'd kept quiet, low to the ground! Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Hadn't they done enough damage already?

His thoughts strayed back to Genesis inside the bookshop. If he left now, there'd be no-one to take him to Banora, he wouldn't be able to help him anymore. Oh why now? Just when things were looking up...

The teen sighed and ran a hand over his face, muttering a series of ugly words under his breath.

"OK, I'll meet him at his home at once."

The messenger nodded and took off down the road to deliver the message. Damn it, that meant he'd have to leave Genesis here – he didn't have the time to take him home and he needed to stick to heavily populated areas for now...

He entered the bookshop and found the preteen looking at a book.

"Hey."

Genesis looked up and smiled at him. Scott scratched the back of his head, wondering how to approach this._ Talk about inconvenient_.

"Look, um…I'm gonna have to go for a little bit." His companion began to frown and the teen panicked, not wanting to upset him too much. "I'll be back – don't worry! I just…have to go help my uncle for a while." He admitted with a strained smile. Genesis smiled again and nodded in agreement, a sudden wave of relief and gratitude washing over him due to the other's simple acceptance.

"I'm so sorry about this – I thought I'd have today off to take you out and all…"

There _had_ to be an alternative to this, he truly _was not comfortable_ with leaving his boss' son alone in a town he'd only been to once before. Unless...

"I guess…you could come with me, if you wanted…"

The request was hesitant, but Scott was almost desperate for Genesis to agree to it – at least if they were together he could buy the other some time so he could escape safely. Oh Goddess, but what if –

"I'm OK, thanks. I'll wait here."

For a brief moment, Scott wanted to shout at him for disagreeing and drag him out the shop anyway, but reminded himself it wasn't Genesis' fault he didn't know what was going on._ He's already involved enough as it is; don't make it worse. Besides, even if by some chance they aren't sure Jem is dead and go after Genesis, you'll be helping him by keeping your distance – having him hang around all the time will only make them more suspicious. But still...I don't like this AT ALL. _

Scott sighed in exasperation, realising he was only wasting more time by simply standing there staring at Genesis.

"_Alright - but_ PROMISE_ me, you _won't_ leave this building until I come back for you, OK?" _

Whoever who was looking for him would most likely keep outdoors, in case they miss their target by going inside, so getting the other to stay put would probably be the best choice. Oh _Goddess, I can't lose him _again_ – it's just not possible. _

He saw a flicker of uncertainty waver in the younger boy's bright blue gaze and bit back a groan. Damn it, this wasn't the time for Genesis to suddenly decide he didn't want to follow orders! Why couldn't he see that he was being _deadly serious_? _You're scaring him, stop bullying him into staying. _

The teen could feel the frustration rising – the timing of this was hideous. He felt his resolve cave in. _Fine, he can leave if he wants, but not without protection._

Scott pulled Genesis over to a space in between two bookcases, away from the sight of everyone currently in the shop. The teen bent down and reached up the bottom of his trouser leg. The younger boy sucked in a quiet breath and backed away, only for the teen to grab his arm and press the weapon into his open palm, he didn't have time to worry about childish squeamishness at the moment.

"Take this. Don't let anyone see you. _NO-ONE_. Understand?"_ I know you want to go outside, but PLEASE don't - I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you while I was away..._

Genesis nodded, the look in his eyes told Scott he'd gotten the message and the grip about his heart slackened considerably. The older redhead then turned and hastily left the shop - he'd have ran, only that would drawn more attention to himself.

* * *

According to Reese, no-one was sure for the moment exactly how long ago the people in question had arrived in Mideel, as from the sound of the information given to him a fellow tradesman he'd asked to look out for such things, these people were scouts - the heralds sent ahead by some professional assassins to search the area briefly and get a better idea of the surroundings and upcoming events before reporting back.

It would seem that these scouts had been asking people in the local area about any children that had arrived roughly nine months ago – that's how the two of them had known for certain it was Scott they were looking for.

Whether anyone had said anything was not certain, but according to Reese' contact, they weren't aware that Scott had changed his hair colour from black to red. It was due to flaws such as these in their search profiles that gave the teen hope that he could buy himself some more time to get a better idea of just what it was he was up against. The assassin (or assassin_s_ if there were multiple – he hoped that wasn't the case) was much more difficult to pinpoint as there was no way of telling how or when they'd arrive; they could even be citizens of a neighbouring town themselves.

But Scott knew now that his days were numbered; scouts appeared and then disappeared a few days before their superiors arrived. People such as these never tended to hang around long before they 'hit' their target; a day, maybe two if he was lucky, but no more than that. Any longer and the locals would be more likely to remember their faces, the false aliases they had used and what they looked like physically, information you couldn't afford to take risk – which unfortunately meant he wouldn't know what they looked like until seeing them face to face for the first time, and he hoped to be long gone by the time they arrived. He decided he would pack anything he was taking tonight so that he could simply grab the bag and leave on a moment's notice. There was no time for messing around when you had someone like this following you, something Scott knew from past experience. It was best to leave as many options open to you as possible.

Reese had confided in him that he would give the teen his certificate to show he had completed his blacksmith apprenticeship. The award normally took years to gain, but Scott had experience with weapons beforehand which had certainly helped speed up the process.

Reese had then gone onto casually inform Scott that it would be best to terminate any unfinished business soon – it had never been said officially, but they both knew the teen would most likely not return once he'd left Banora. The blacksmith said he knew some people who would be willing to put a teenager up for a little while whilst he planned out his next moves, and for some reason, the thought of only one teen being allowed made him think of Genesis.

Though Scott would never admit it, he'd considered taking the other with him on more than occasion. It was insane and incredibly dangerous idea that would only add to the price on his head, but he couldn't hold back a little thrill at the prospect. Having a younger child to look out for and protect once more; it'd be just like old times. _Especially with them looking so much alike and all._

Genesis! Oh Goddess, Scott had completely forgotten about the younger redhead during all the conversation! He was meant to be looking after him! Oh no, he was meant to take the preteen back to the mansion before his parents got home! If they arrived back before he did...

"I need to go!"

* * *

The temperature outside had dropped considerably since the last time Scott was outside. The teen ran outside to find that the sunlight had been almost completely smothered by the thick inky blackness that lazily draped itself over the skyline. _How long had I been, _Scott wondered dazedly, the horror of the situation slowly beginning to sink in_. _

He'd gone and _abandoned_ the only child of Mayor Rhapsodos (someone whose simply saying their _name_ in public was a crime punishable by death), in a town the child had only properly been to once before - _in the middle of the night. _How in the planet could he have been so _stupid_? Getting his bearings, Scott lurched forwards, sprinting down the street in the direction of the bookshop. Please _have listened. _Please_ say you took my advice seriously and stayed there like I told you to..._

It wasn't until he rounded the corner into that road that he saw the distinct lack of light coming from the shop windowsand remembered this was a _Sunday_ evening, and that the bookshop closed earlier during the weekends. Cold panic seized his muscles, contorted his face as he all but yelled a particularly ugly curse at the ground, hands tangled in his hair as he forced himself to calm down and think clearly so this mess could be sorted out as soon as possible.

Scott visited the shop's owner and asked him if he remembered a child resembling the description he gave. The older man had replied that he did as that child had been the last one to leave his shop after buying a copy of LOVELESS, and had paid with a _two hundred gil _note; Scott nearly face-palmed when he heard that. The bookshop owner then replied apologetically that he had only seen the child wander off towards the Great Maze, but hadn't been paying attention after that. The teen thanked him anyway and headed off in that direction.

Of course Genesis had to pick one of the rowdiest sectors of Banora to get lost in. There were a grand total of five bars on the road he was passing alone. If he didn't find the younger boy quickly, some of the more light-headed customers may spot the preteen and take a _liking_ to him – he was under no illusion as to how ugly some people were inside.

He'd given Genesis the switchblade, but didn't have any hopes that he would actually have the bravery or skill to use it in self-defence. Speaking of self-defence, these scouts – it was only him they were looking, right? Surely they didn't still think Jem was alive?

Then again, his little brother _had_ died in his own arms some time after they'd left to look for Scott elsewhere. They hadn't seen him die themselves, only known that they'd severely wounded him, but the amount of bullets they fired at him, all that _blood_..._surely_ they must have realised that even a grown man wouldn't have survived an onslaught like that!

But what if they didn't realise? And there was Genesis, wandering around the town alone, a carbon copy of a wanted 'criminal', only so much weaker than the original and virtually defenceless...what if they took _him_ instead? It was dark after all, if they grabbed him quickly and gagged him, they could easily shove him in a car boot and drive off, not realising their mistake until the sun rose next morning. _Shut up. _

The assassin wouldn't care for a mere lookalike either, Genesis would be tortured for information he knew nothing about – _SHUT UP_ – and a hostage without use was a waste of time and effort, Genesis would be killed in a way far more painful than anything his 11-year-old mind could possibly comprehend-

"SHUT UP!!"

The voice of a bypasser slipped through this whirling abyss of despair. Calm down, mate. NO, HE WOULD _NOT_ CALM DOWN, DAMN IT! Not that he could now even if he wanted to; tears of despair and anguish were slipping through his fingers as he tried to jam them back into his eyes and failed miserably. Long pale fingers kept clawing at his face, but the wetness was making his skin slippery. This was _all your fault. Why didn't I just leave him alone in the first place?_

Something collided hard with his stomach, temporarily knocking the breath out of him. The force spluttered out a quick apology and Scott tore his hands from his face and grabbed the person before he could run off. He slammed the child into the brick wall, not at all caring at that moment whether it hurt or not and wrenched the red hood off, almost crying again but in happiness as Genesis' frightened blue eyes stared back at him. Almost.

"_YOU!_ WHERE ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN?! I TOLD YOU TO _WAIT FOR ME IN THE SHOP! _DO YOU HAVE _ANY IDEA_ HOW SCARED I WAS?! I THOUGHT THAT YOU...THAT THEY… "

Scott's voice suddenly broke as he bowed his head forward, gripping Genesis' shoulders with a vice-like grip. The teen's entire body was trembling with pent-up emotions, unsure of whether to scream at, cry over or hug Genesis. He was NEVER letting this boy out of his sight again.

"Scott! They're back - my parents, they're home early! I saw their car driving past a couple of minutes ago – _we have to go!"_

Parents? Oh right, _Genesis'_ parents. _The mayor. _He had no idea there son wasn't home and if he _did_ find out...

The teen cursed once more, only quietly. _Time to go, then._

By the time Scott awoke to the sound of someone knocking o

* * *

n the front door some twelve hours later, he was back to his usual self, the heightened sense of paranoia urging him to at least take a weapon to the door with him – just in case. As he padded down the corridor the ran the entire length of the house, his mind tried to backtrack over the evening before, remembering what exactly it was that had happened. There had been a wonderful sense of freedom as he jogged back to the mansion. As strange as it sounded, it had actually been quite nice to have something to chase after instead of having it run after you instead. He had been happy, that he did remember. Genesis was back, and keeping speed with him. They had known exactly where they were going and had Scott began to feel that his life had a purpose again. It definitely wasn't the safe option, all but kidnapping his boss's son and taking him out for an afternoon a week, but he hadn't cared at the time – the danger made life fun and worthy living again. Scott would have been happy to do this for quite some time, so happy he hadn't bothered to stop and think where exactly Genesis had gone after he's left the bookshop. Until then.

He flung the door open, aiming to least stun the potential attacker with the sudden movement, and was surprised to see Angeal Hewley stood on his doorstep. Scott didn't know much about Angeal other than the basics: he was still in primary school and lived alone with his mother in a house somewhere else in Banora. The two of them kept to themselves, the only thing he'd heard about the boy up until that point in time, was to do with that time he'd broken his arm trying to save someone's cat from a tree. Angeal was a good kid and he seemed harmless enough.

The boy bowed his head to the ground as a few acquaintances of Scott's whistled at him as they passed. The teen had grinned at them and dismissed them with a vague gesture. He'd the heard the sharp intake of breath and looked down in time to see Angeal gawking at his hand. The hand he had been holding the gun with. _Damn it._ Not so harmless anymore; what normal teenager asked the door with a loaded pistol in his hand?

Scott hid it quickly, hoping perhaps to somehow convince Angeal he had seen nothing.

"Good morning, Angeal – can I help you?"

The boy smiled warmly, though he looked a little shaken.

"Hello Scott. I was wondering, is Jem here at the moment?"

The redhead's heart nearly stopped then. Jem? How did Angeal know about Jem? Oh Goddess – was _Angeal_ a scout?

_...That's just stupid, _he told himself. "How is it you know Jem?"

Angeal looked genuinely frightened by this point as Scott felt a flicker of sympathy – there was absolutely no way this boy was a scout, he just wasn't strong enough – Scott hadn't even done anything and the other was scared.

"I met him yesterday evening while he was looking for you."

Yesterday? But that meant – _Genesis_. Genesis must have gone to Banora under the name of 'Jem', surname 'Marsden' most likely if Angeal had turned up here looking for him.

Jem. _Oh Goddess..._ Wondering around Banora late at night, not only _looking_ like a wanted criminal but also going by the same name _too?! _This was worse than he'd thought. He swore quietly under his breath. Did anything _ever_ go as planned?

"No. He's not here at the moment." And that was the truth; the _real_ Jem 'Marsden' had never been here. "Should I pass on a message to him for you?"

"There's no message, but he left this at my house yesterday. Could you possible make sure he gets it?"

He went to Angeal's _house_?

Before Scott had time to get annoyed at the mayor's son, he was brought face to face with the same book he had seen Genesis reading before he'd left the bookshop. _LOVELESS._

* * *

The rest of that morning had passed agonisingly slowly for Scott after Angeal had left. He was due to start forging his sword this morning, a task that would apparently take about two weeks to complete; and mark the end of his apprenticeship. Had he been a normal teenager, his next step would have been to travel off to the nearest city where he could join a guild and finish his training. But Scott was not an ordinary teenager, and the thought of being metaphorically tied to a sinking ship for the next two weeks had done nothing to improve his mood.

By the time he was granted a break, Scott hurriedly discarded his apron and safety mask, ready to go and get some answers from Genesis, when Reese had told him he wanted a word – about his sudden departure the night before. It seemed that the blacksmith had noticed something was off about his charge lately and wanted to know what was going on – and refused to take 'nothing' for an answer. Scott could have lied to him, he was a terrific liar when he wanted to be –but he just didn't see the point, didn't feel like it. He wanted _someone_ he could tell about everything to do with Genesis, a person he trusted enough and had enough experience to give useful advice. So the teen told Reese what had happened since the day of the mayor's party all those months ago: how he had met Genesis, what he had seen that day with the younger boy and his supervisor and how Scott had taken him to Banora yesterday on his day off.

There had been a long silence after he had finished explaining and the teen found himself beginning to doubt his actions, when Reese simply said: "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Scott's eyebrows furrowed together as he seriously thought about the question. Did he?

"Those people are powerful, Scott. They have contacts, allies – the mayor won't take well to some local riff-raff parading his well-kept secrets around the town like that..."

"I know." And the redhead did know, all too well. But – he couldn't just leave Genesis, not after finding out what he knew about him.

"Was that where you were going just now, to see him?"

Scott nodded in confirmation as he backed towards the shop door. Reese sighed heavily and ran his hand over his face. "You haven't listened to a word I've just said, have you?"

The teen looked up in surprise. "Yes I have."

The blacksmith smiled ruefully.

"But you're still going to see him, aren't you." The dark haired man didn't even try to pass it off as a question, he already knew the answer. The other's lack of reply simply confirmed what he already knew.

* * *

Scott was thinking about what Reese had asked him all the way to the mansion.

_Are you sure you know what you're doing? _

The teenager still didn't have an answer. He'd thought he knew before, but that was prior to meeting Genesis alone that day and taking him to Banora for the first time. Life just hadn't been the same since befriending the mayor's son - were they even friends or just mere acquaintances? – but Scott hadn't been sure whether that change had been for the better or the worse, until the previous evening. When Genesis had gone missing; the elder redhead was certain he never wanted to feel that way again, it was like losing Jem once more, letting him simply slip between his fingers.

There was no way now that Scott would take Genesis with him when the time arrived for him to depart. It was just too dangerous and too risky – the younger boy had no experience at all with any kind of self-defence, espionage, knowing what to do and what not to do. He'd be dragging a relatively normal child into his world, a child he had come to care about, not simply because of his resemblance to Jem, but for who Genesis was as a person; how he would try and appear so strong and cold to those he did not know, his stubbornness and curiosity...

The boy had no idea about how to keep a low profile either by the sound of it – Scott was only gone a couple of hours and already, Genesis had managed to gain a friend and possibly a few acquaintances along the way, whilst he was meant to be spending his time remaining invisible. He was mature for an eleven year old, but he was still only a child – children rarely survived long whilst on the run, and as much as Scott felt bad for thinking it, he was certain, Genesis would only slow him down – which was something he could not allow.

He remembered his way back to the boy's bedroom window, keeping to the shadows as much as possible – it was his day off from the cooking job, he wasn't supposed to be here.

Scott tapped on the window, hoping that the younger redhead was still in his room. It flung open and the teen was met by an unnaturally bright faced Genesis, hair stuck out at awkward angles, eyes gleaming as he beamed at him. The preteen was still wearing his hooded jumper and had most likely slept in it too. That was just _cute_...and that was _exactly the point_. In the world Scott belonged to, 'cute' just didn't exist; there simply wasn't room for it. Genesis may not have belonged to his own world, but he didn't belong to Scott's either. Still, the teen found himself rather unhappy at the prospect of having to say goodbye. _I've grown too attached to him. _Scott needed to distance himself from the other, as soon as possible – perhaps then the separation would be easier. _I'm sorry, this has to be done. You do understand, right? _Genesis began to frown, the smile melting off his face and Scott felt his heart twist unexpectedly at how lost the other looked. _No – of course you wouldn't._

* * *

That was the last time he had seen or spoken to the younger redhead, almost a week ago. He still turned up to the mansion to complete his job, but that was all. Most of his effort went into forging his sword and keeping himself as far away from the public eye as possible, keeping under the radar.

Scott's situation reminded him of a scared rabbit cowering in the brambles, watching with baited breath as the hawks soared in the skies above, circling around in the open space. They knew he was around theresomewhere and would wait as long as possible if necessary for him to reveal themselves – and when he did, when the cover had vanished and the rabbit was forced to sprint for its life across the wide open spaces, he was sure the rabbit would feel the same inevitability he did. He could run, but in the end, he could not hide. They would find him eventually and he knew, had always known, that he wouldn't survive that last fatal encounter.

The shrill, high pitched rattle of the school bell shattered his thoughts and brought him out of his reverie. Grey cheap quality tarmac and gravel drifted back into his line of sight – the quiet understated school building staring patiently back at him and Scott was only brought back into focus when he felt something warm tug on his left hand. Big silver eyes blinked up at him, the corners crinkling a little as the teen offered the child a warm smile in return.

Reese had been feeling under the weather and so Scott had volunteered to drop his eight year old son off at school. The blacksmith had been reluctant, knowing that the scouts or assassins perhaps by this time would have most likely passed through Banora at least once – but the teen had insisted, saying it would be could for him to get some fresh air for once, walk around for a bit instead of following his normal route between their house, the shop and occasionally, the Rhapsodos' mansion. Scott squeezed Alexander's hand softly before letting it go as the boy ran off to join his classmates, the children all being herded in through the building's main entrance. Once the child's messy dark brown hair had disappeared from view, the teen allowed the smiled to drop slightly as he turned back and started his walk back to the house.

_As the rabbit left his temporary den, it stopped suddenly and stood on its hind legs, sniffing the surrounding air for anything unusual. Its whiskers twitched, sure it had smelt something different but unable now to locate the smell again. Cautiously, it slipped back down onto all fours, when a sudden instinct told it to turn around –_

Scott wasn't sure what exactly it was that made him stop in mid stride, but it was only as he turned his head and spotted the tall slight male standing in the alleyway, saw the demented victorious grin on the other's young face, watched almost in slow motion as they reached into the jacket pocket and took in the sight on all seven inches of sleek metal pistol – that his every muscle locked in place, helpless but to look on as the assassin aimed the gun...

_Just in time to see the all encompassing darkness of the hawk's open mouth..._

And fired.

* * *

**A/N: Ah how I love cliffhangers...^^'. R & R s'il vous plait...**


End file.
